


Ground Control to Major Tom

by Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Romance, Sexy Times, Smut, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck/pseuds/Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck
Summary: Waking from a centuries-long cryogenic sleep, alternate Earth astronaut Major Tommiah Jones finds herself among space pirates, in a world and time apart from her reality. Now she must do what's necessary to survive, find purpose, and perhaps avoid falling in love with trouble incarnate: Yondu Udonta. Song prompted one-shots. Humorous smut.
Relationships: Drax the Destroyer/Mantis, Yondu Udonta/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Ground Control to Major Tom

**Author's Note:**

> Cue up your YouTube and read on. The actions take place in the order of the songs listed (there's quite a few). If you have suggestions for future chapters you'll need to send me song prompts otherwise I'll lay dormant (as I have for so long thus far). Cheers!
> 
> "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics, "Moonage Daydream" by my man David Bowie, and "Wake Me Up Before You Go-go" by Wham. "Cherry Bomb" by the The Runaways, "Fox on the Run" by The Sweet, and "Come on Closer" by Jem "Bring it on Home to Me" by Sam Cooke; "Try Me" by James Brown; "Make Love to You" by Etta James; "Cups" by Anna Kendrik; "Go All the Way" by The Raspberries, "Time has Come Today" by The Chambers Brothers, and "Hooked on a Feeling" by Blue Suede. Led Zepplin "The Lemon Song"; Joan Jett and the Blackhearts "Do you Wanna Touch me"; Donna Summer "Could it be Magic". "She Fucking Hates Me" by Puddle of Mud; "Tainted Love" by Soft Cell; "Why Should I Worry" by Billy Joel; "Cry to Me" by Solomon Burke; "Back in Black" by ACDC; "Shoot to Thrill" by ACDC; "The Warrior" by Scandal. Billy Squier's "Everybody Wants You;" Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang;" "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls; Quiet Riot's "Cum on Feel the Noize;" Rod Stewart's "All Right Now;" more modern Brendan Maclean's "Stupid;" David Bowie's "Modern Love;" "Amageddon It" by Def Leppard; David Bowie's "Heroes." "Bang a Gong"; "La Grange" by ZZ Top; Guns 'n' Roses "Paradise City"; "Caught up in You" .38 Special; Aerosmith's "Dream On"; "Free Your Mind" by En Vogue. Loverboy's "Lovin' Every Minute of It"; Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Loving You"; Carly Simon's "You're So Vain"; "Kickstart My Heart" by Motley Crue; Lavern Baker's "Jim Dandy"; "Layla" by Eric Clapton. Jackson 5 "I want you back;" Jay and the Americans "Come a little bit closer;" Fine Young Cannibals "She drives me crazy;" ACDC "Guns for hire;" Don Henley "Dirty Laundry;" Collective Soul "December." "Eternal Flame" by The Bangles, "The Search is Over" by Survivor, "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabirel, "Lady" by Kenny Rogers, "Angel Eyes" by Jeff Healey, "Cherry Pie" by Warrant, "Faithfully" by Journey, "Heaven" by Warrant, and "I'll be there for You" by Bon Jovi.

She fell back against the sheets, exhausted and thoroughly pissed off. She'd been at it for over an hour now and without any sort of success—unless you counted getting slick with sweat and blood. All she'd managed to do was frustrate herself further by getting tangled up in overly silken sheets and with a mass of tangled red hair that were both liken to smother her before he returned. Looking first to her bloodied right wrist and then to her left before raising her head and looking down the length of her naked body to her similarly bound ankles, Major Tommiah Jones let out a low groan before dropping her head back and closing her eyes. She tried to run through events, logically and reasonably, that had led to this place, this time, and this situation. But logic had very little to do with the fact that she now lay naked and bound in a space pirate's bed.

That she'd volunteered for this—well not THIS in particular but the mission that had led to this—offered little comfort. In fact, it only served to anger her further. She'd had high hopes of waking up from cryo-sleep in deep space, assuming control of her ship, and piloting to other worlds all in the name of science and exploration. She'd never expected to see her home again or her family and friends but had wanted her sacrifice and service to mean something. All her mental and physical training; all her studies to be at the top of all her classes to qualify for selection amongst the rigorous competition; all the long hours she and her co-scientists had used to solve the issues of cryo-sleep and fixing the ship to self-pilot around obstacles until she'd reached the "wake up" point…all of it meant nothing now. Based off what she could tell, everyone she'd ever known at home were most likely now dead, the mission as destroyed as her ship, and her purpose for existing highly questioned.

"You've really made the grade haven't you Major Tom?" she spoke on a sigh, rolling her head to the side and taking in the details of her space capsule "prison" once more.

Cluttered and disorganized: clothing and miscellaneous items tossed haphazardly around the room in exactly the fashion she'd expect from a space pirate. Panels of controls and mechanisms of origin and design she didn't recognize were also positioned in various places around the room and nearby were dressers and cabinets, some only partially closed with clothing half hanging out, and all looking decidedly well-used and on their last leg of life. Grotesquely shiny and far too cutesy for what seemed acceptable for a space pirate to have in his possession were little knickknacks located atop the dressers and cabinets, as well as spread along the top of the backboard of the bed she was bound to. Paradoxically was the fact that this bed had been pristinely clean, the sheets soft against her skin and smelling crisply fresh, when she'd first been deposited on it. But the sheets were now a tangled mess, equally covered in sweat and blood from her struggles, and all the pillows that had been piled on the bed were also discarded on the floor on either side of it. Tommiah wasn't even remotely sorry for that and now began to contemplate whether or not it was worth it to relieve herself here and now. It'd further ruin the state of the bed, and perhaps piss off the space pirate, but it'd also grow damn uncomfortable once the liquid of her urine cooled and she was still left lying atop it.

"Never mind." She closed her eyes as she sighed again, reluctantly thankful that she was here instead of elsewhere on the ship.

She hadn't woken up from her cryo-sleep here. She'd woken up in a far different room: dark, stuffy, and with many horrifically distorted faces of numerous shapes and sizes hovering over her. While a few of the faces had been fairly humanoid, some of the features of these creatures had reminded her of Klingons and when they'd spoken many of them had had teeth straight out of a Ferengi's mouth. She couldn't imagine her Aunt Brenna living with such things and yet her father had assured her that she'd not only survived but that her aunt had actually thrived among them. Tommiah didn't know if she had the same constitution as her aunt to do that here.

Waking up to such creatures had been far from pleasant but the real terror had been the fact that she'd been paralyzed and mute—due to the recent reactivation from her cryo-sleep—and had had to suffer through many of their gropes and prods, some even licking and nipping at her skin as they'd passed her one-to-another—though she'd thankfully felt nothing aside from the pressure on her skin at the time—before some semblance of order had stayed them. The "order" had arrived in the form of a blue-skinned man, clad in a leather trench coat, with some sort of mohawk looking fin atop his head. There'd been a glowing arrow hovering in the air beside him and at the sight of the man, or the arrow, she'd been dropped to the metal-grate floor—this time her pain receptors had recognized the movement.

Without the ability to catch herself, due to the lingering paralysis, she'd nearly been knocked back unconscious from the drop. But she'd been with it enough to listen to the ensuing discussion as to why these men had opened the cargo when they'd had specific instructions to deliver the cargo untouched and undamaged—Tommiah hadn't much liked being referred to as cargo but she hadn't been able to counterargue with faulty vocal cords at the time. Excuses had been offered, a few men had had the crap beat out of them, and then she'd been scooped up by the blue-skinned man and carted off to her current position. Still paralyzed and mute aside from the beginnings of grunts, her legs and arms flailed about crazily as he'd walked and more than once her head had knocked against a metal wall as he'd moved down one corridor after another. He hadn't apologized. In their movements, Tommiah was now certain that they were aboard a space ship of significantly larger size than her own had been. It was manned by well over two dozen men, and she thought she saw a few women, and the crew consisted of many different colors, shapes, and sizes of creatures, a few human-looking ones, and all dressed in what she could only assume was current attire for mercenary space pirates.

The blue-skinned man had been escorted by two others and they'd made their through the vast ship, talking about things that had solidified her assumption that she was now awake in a completely different time and space quadrant than where she'd expected to be. By the time they'd made it to what she could only assume was his quarters, she'd been able to moan, but that hadn't served her well. After he'd secured her to the bed, he'd left. And that had been over an hour ago.

Attempting to self-comfort and/or keep it together, Tommiah began to hum to herself the song that'd often been sung to her in her years of astronaut training. At one point in time she'd hated it but since it fairly fit her namesake, and her former vocation, she'd grown to enjoy the irony and had taken to belting it out in the locker rooms back on the training base. She was no opera singer and more than once her colleagues had begged her to shut up, but in the here and now, since she didn't have an audience to critique her, Tommiah closed her eyes and began to sing aloud. She was desperate for something familiar, something she could control.

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control, I'm stepping through the door," her voice cracked at a sudden mental image of her father waving to her as she'd made her way to her ship prior to final launch, "And I'm floating in a most peculiar way," she swallowed the lump in her throat and sang louder, "And the stars look very different today. For here am I sitting in a tin can," she looked around at the messy room and snorted before she shook her head and closed her eyes again, this time an unwanted tear moistening the sheet beneath her head, "Far above the world; planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do…"

A noise, like that of a grunted laugh, came from the side and she turned her head towards the sound, sucking in her breath when she saw the blue-skinned man standing just inside the door with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at her.

"Why don't you have the voice of dying animal." His sardonic tone of voice, accompanied with his empathy-less stare, had Tommiah's teeth gnashing together as she tugged at her bonds. "But that's no reason to further harm your pretty Terran skin like you are." He shoved away from the door and stalked towards her. She refused to shy away when he stopped at the edge of the bed but continued his forward momentum as he reached down. His touch was surprisingly gentle, though, when his fingertips barely traced over the bonds on her wrist. He pulled way and held them up for her to see the bright red of her blood on them, "These sheets were expensive, Terran. You'll pay for them now that you've gone and ruined them."

Tommiah glared at him, "You should've thought of that before you tied me to your bed naked."

At the mentioning of her lack of attire, the man's lips quirked upward in a lecherous smirk, "You get your voice back and you're all full of hot air ain't ya?" He slowly traced his gaze down the length of her body, Tommiah beyond mortified at the obvious action, before bringing it back to her face. His toothy grin revealed more than a few silver replacements as well as the fact that dentistry apparently did not exist this far out in space. Tommiah knew her face and chest were already flushed with anger but now also embarrassment and a little fear. She had no notion what he intended to do to her, why he'd tied her up to his bed, and where in the hell he was taking her as his "cargo."

"Now we can do this the easy way," He leaned forward until his face was close enough to hers that she saw four eyes instead of two, "or we can do it the hard way."

Tommiah purposefully went cross-eyed before she replied, "Do what exactly?"

The man let out a hoot of laughter, slapped the bed beside her body, and stood up. He moved fast, so fast that Tommiah blinked at the space where he'd been before she knew to look upward where he now stood grinning down at her. He turned away just enough to settle himself back on the edge of the bed, reaching down to jerk open a drawer. He rummaged around in it until he pulled out a tube of some sort of jellified liquid. Tommiah glared at the tube and then at him.

"You aren't seriously going to use that are you?"

The man looked back at her with a grin, "When I take my women I don't need no lube," again he moved fast, this time to place his hands on either side of her torso and leaning down until she felt the warmth of his chest through his clothing press against her, "but I'm glad for your reassurance."

"You are an arrogant son of a bitch." Tommiah wanted to head butt him but he reared up with another laugh before she had the chance. "That isn't what I meant when I asked and you know it."

He continued to laugh as he popped the cap off, squeezed some clear liquid across his fingers, and then set the tube aside. Tommiah was all but growling when he turned back to her.

"Don't you dare." She spoke through her teeth as he leaned forward again, his arm moving down the length of her body, his fingers not yet touching her but the pressure of his body against hers increasing as he again shifted on the bed to all-but-lay beside her. "You're a despicable being if you do that to me."

He smiled at her, his body arching towards her in his efforts to keep eye contact but reach down her body at the same time, "And by 'that' what do you mean, little Terran lady?" Before she could growl out an answer, she felt his cold, wet fingers rub over her ankle. Tommiah let out a squeak of surprise, causing the man to laugh again. "If you thought I was going to do anything else but put salve on your self-inflicted wounds, you've a perverted mind, Terran lady." He sat up straight again, squeezed out more of the liquid, and proceeded to rub it over her wrist. "How long you been in that sleep pod for anyway?" He chuckled to himself as he purposefully leaned over her torso, heavily laying atop her in his efforts to reach her other wrist. "Apparently long enough for you to create sexual fantasies with a Ravager captain." He kept up his chuckling as he again purposefully leaned over her, this time maintaining eye contact as his face hovered over her pelvic area, when he reached for her opposite ankle. Tommiah knew that if she survived this ordeal she'd never get the image of his blue face floating just above the red of her pubic hair, with the stark whiteness of her skin in the background, out of her mind. He seemed to know this as he grinned that lecherous grin at her again, equal parts terrifying and tantalizing to her now she knew he didn't intend—as of yet—bodily harm to her. "Poor, wicked Terran lady."

"I have a name." She narrowed her eyes at him as he sat up again, his movements the slowest she'd yet seen. It was if molasses had suddenly descended upon him and he took his damn time to come back to a semi-appropriate sitting position, no longer hovering over her like a lecher.

He chuckled, "Funny. So do I. Imagine that. The things we're discovering we've got in common."

"Who the hell are you people?" Tommiah yelled at him then, fully frustrated with him and the situation. "What the hell are you? Where the fuck am I? And what the fuck are you going to do with me?" The blue-skinned man sat calmly as she shouted her questions at him. He replaced the cap on the tube and put it back in the drawer, nudging it partially shut with his foot. The fact that he didn't close it completely made Tommiah's face flush redder. "Can't you just fucking close it all the way? The fuck is wrong with you."

The man looked at the drawer as if he'd never seen it and then back to her. He laughed again and used his foot to close it all the way, while he once more placed his hands on either side of her torso and leaned in close. Too close. He had four eyes again. Tommiah tried to turn her head away but a tight grip on her chin had her facing him.

"I am Yondu Udonta, captain of this here M-ship and leader of this here Ravager faction. We picked up some cargo to take to Knowhere. Your sleep pod was in that cargo. We are still heading towards Knowhere, and are due to arrive in a few days at this speed. What happens to you after the Collector has you, I don't know and I don't much care. We've been paid quite well already for this delivery and will stand to profit quite a bit more upon successful delivery." He glanced to the side at her injured wrist and sighed, "Though the cargo was supposed to be untouched and undamaged." He sat up again and Tommiah felt the chill of the room creep between them. "I'll probably get docked for your stupidity."

Before Tommiah could come up with a worthy enough comeback to match his annoying mirth, her stomach let out a blatant protest, earning another laugh from the man Yondu. Tommiah closed her eyes, counted to ten, then opened them again to see Yondu's reddish hued gaze still grinning at her. She'd never much given thought to what a space pirate would look like, or act like in the future, but he was doing a fine job of living up to her lack of expectations.

"I suppose you're going to make me beg, aren't you?"

Yondu smirked, "Why that sounds mighty fine. Naked woman tied to my bed, begging me." He made a pleased humming noise in his throat and smacked his lips together. "Can't always tell who is into that sort of thing right away can you?"

"Again," Tommiah managed to keep her tone even, though she still spoke through clenched teeth, "not what I meant."

"Now I'm just a dumb Ravager captain, you're going to have to be more upfront with the likes of me." He trailed his gaze from her face to her chest as he spoke.

This time it was Tommiah who let out a hoot of laughter, bringing his eyes back to her face, "This is beyond ridiculous!" She raised her head up off the sheets in her attempt to get closer and make herself more menacing—though she knew she utterly failed in both regards. "Here I am strapped to a space pirate's bed, naked, hungry, needing to piss, after waking up in the arms of the ugliest sons of bitches I've ever seen in my life. Not only am I at the blasted mercy of said space pirate but out of all the space pirates in the galaxy I had to end up in the bed of perhaps the only space pirate with the maturity level and humor of a thirteen-year-old puberty-ridden child." Her head fell back against the sheets then, another wave of exhaustion hitting her hard.

"Space pirate?" Yondu laughed, slapping his knee in a manner not unlike a stereotypical redneck might do back on earth. "That's what you think I am?"

Tommiah narrowed her gaze at him, "You called yourself a Ravager. By its very definition that word denotes more than a little piracy on your part. The space part only refers to the fact that we are, in fact, in space. All you need is a pet parrot to perch on your shoulder, an eye patch, maybe a peg leg, and a healthy dose of 'arr' and you're the picture of pirate perfection in my dictionary."

Yondu laughed again, shaking his head and wiping at the edges of his eyes, "I haven't had this much fun since we raided that sacred nunnery on Asteroid 262."

"Cretan."

Yondu moved quickly, yet again, and had his nose all but pressed against hers—because he had the personal space bubble of glue, "I told you before, Terran lady, that you're going to have to be more upfront with the likes of me. If you're going to insult me, or praise me, do it so I understand what yer saying. Hmm?" He reached up and patted her head in a mocking parental gesture.

"Tommiah."

"What's that?"

Tommiah would've sighed but was very much aware of the fact that it had been literal years since she'd brushed her teeth—though given the state of Yondu's and all his men's that wouldn't bother him much, "My name is Tommiah Jones. Major Tommiah Jones."

"Oh, a major are you then, Tommy girl?" Yondu smirked at her as he sat up. "What sort of major are you, aside from a major pain the ass?"

"You think you're being original with jokes like that?" She deadpanned back in the face of his mirth. "I am, or was, a major in the Air and Space program on Earth. I was selected for the first manned reconnaissance mission into deep space. My ship was supposed to pilot me to the edge of the Andromeda system where my cryo-sleep pod would prompt me to wake up so I could enter into the system and begin transmitting back to Earth the things that I found."

Yondu blinked at her, "That's a dumbass mission." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he stood and moved towards one of the panels in the wall. "Where's the profit in all that? What's in it for you, drifting through space like a zombie, only to wake and die alone, with no guarantee that your transmission ever even made it back to Terra?" He punched some buttons then turned to face her, his expression one of confused disapproval. "Dumbass mission."

"To a situation profiteer like yourself, that would be considered dumb. However, not everyone wakes up in the morning thinking, 'Now how can I screw someone over today and end the day richer than I was in the morning, no matter the cost?'" Tommiah immaturely rolled her eyes at him—she knew it was immature but she couldn't help it.

Yondu snorted, "There's always a cost-to-profit ratio darlin'. Even space pirates like myself have codes to live by. And there's damn hell to pay, for a lifetime even, if you ever think of violating them codes." His voice, for perhaps the first time, drifted into a more serious tone and it drew Tommiah's attention back. She allowed herself to look at him without complete contempt and in his far-off expression she saw what looked to be a man who'd gone through that very hell he'd referred to because of a mistake, or a series of mistakes, and was now soaking up an unexpected second chance. The panel dinged, breaking the moment, and the expression of careless amusement she'd grown accustomed to returned. "Now you said something about begging…"

Tommiah's retort died in her throat when he pulled out a plate of food. It didn't look like anything she recognized but even at this distance she could smell the savory spices that flavored the exotic foods. After years a complete protein pills being dumped inside her stasis body, the idea of eating real food had her mouth watering so quickly she nearly drooled. But, she wasn't an idiot. She knew that she couldn't eat too much too quickly. Her body needed more liquids than it needed solids at the moment. With that thought Tommiah snapped her drooling mouth shut and narrowed her eyes.

"I need liquids, not solids, space pirate."

Yondu made an overdramatic gesture of offense, "I offer you food and you complain? You've some nerve Terran lady." He turned back around and punched a few more dials on the panel. When he turned to lean against the wall again, he deliberately went slow as he brought morsel after morsel of food up to his mouth, chewing leisurely, and making obnoxiously loud moans of delight.

"You're an obnoxious sadist." Tommiah looked away, her stomach protesting louder and longer now.

Yondu laughed, "And you're naked, hungry, need to piss, and in the bed of a space pirate with the maturity level and humor of a thirteen-year-old puberty-ridden child." He tapped his temple with a cheeky grin when her surprised gaze moved towards his. "But a space pirate with an impeccable memory, you should know."

The panel dinged again and this time he did push away from the wall, holding the plate of food and a glass of a suspiciously ugly looking liquid. As he walked the liquid continued to change a variety of colors before settling on puke yellow. Yondu put his plate atop the mess on his bedside stand then shoved the glass into Tommiah's face. It smelled as horrible as it looked. She turned her head away.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Terran lady."

She sighed, "Tommiah."

"And I'm Yondu. I think we've done this before. Now drink if you're so hungry."

Tommiah jerked at her bonds, silently reminding him, in case he'd somehow forgotten, of her inability to feed herself. Yondu smirked at her before switching hands with the glass, shoving a hand under her head, and banging the glass against her mouth. She would've protested and spit out a curse at him for his rough gestures but the nasty liquid began to pour down her throat. At least it didn't taste as horrible as it looked or smelled. A few gags, chokes, and spit-takes later the glass was empty, the sheets around her—along with her face—were filthier and Yondu was muttering about compensation for his ruined bed.

He went back to the panel to replace the empty glass before turning his attention back to his own plate of food. He took to walking around the room, kicking things out of his way, in search of who knew what. Having been raised with manners, Tommiah fought against the urge to thank him for the aid—especially since he was about to sell her to some unknown "Collector" in the dumbest sounding place ever. After a strangely awkward time, Tommiah sighed and banged her head against the pillow.

"Now what?" Yondu spoke to her from across the room, food shoved halfway into his mouth.

"Thank you." She muttered towards the ceiling.

"What?" Yondu's voice was marginally closer but also muffled, now that his mouth was completely full of food.

Tommiah turned her head and looked directly at him, "I said thank you." Yondu looked at her as if she'd grown a second head before he shrugged and began to turn away. "But I still need to piss."

Yondu nearly choked on his food and laughter. He was still coughing when he set his empty plate beside the empty glass and came back to the bedside.

"Yeah," he wiped the back of his hand across his lips, "you've mentioned that once or twice before." He looked at the length of her once, twice, before he crossed his arms over his chest. "How am I supposed to know that you're not going to try to brain me?"

Tommiah laughed, "Seriously? I just woke up from years of cryo-sleep, my muscles are mostly atrophied, I had my first meal of gook just now and it has yet to be digested enough to give me the energy to brain anyone but myself when I fall on my face the minute I try to stand on my own. The only thing you have to worry about is me further ruining your sheets, as well as your mattress, when my bowels and bladder decide to evacuate themselves right here, right now."

Her wrists and ankles were freed within seconds of her finishing her sentence. Yondu stepped back, shoving the previously unknown knife back into place, and stared at her in expectation. Tommiah managed to pull her arms down to her sides and to somewhat curl into the fetal position but she knew without having to try that there was no way in hell she'd be able to stand up, let alone walk to whatever bathroom facilities he happened to have.

"What do you expect me to do," Tommiah glared up at him, "levitate my way to the toilet?"

Yondu growled something she couldn't quite catch but wasted no time in jerking her body to the edge of the bed and hoisting her unceremoniously into his arms. The movements were so sudden and violent that she had a moment of nauseating vertigo. She brought both of her arms onto her torso, one covering her chest and the other her pelvic region. The attempt at modesty further amused Yondu and it was with great hoots of laughter that he basically dropped her onto the commode in the bathroom hidden behind a dividing wall in his bedroom. When he didn't move away Tommiah again glared at him.

"I suppose it's too much to ask for privacy while I do this?"

Yondu snorted, "I've seen all you've got to offer and I just had to carry your sorry ass in here. Ain't no way I'm going to turn my back and have you shit all over the floor."

Tommiah sighed. Unfortunately, his logic was sound. It didn't take long, but her body was having an almost immediate reaction to being reactivated by the liquid in her system and as she'd predicted both her bladder and her bowels emptied themselves. This was quite literally the crappy part of space exploration. The part no one really talked about. Once she finished, Tommiah was grateful she had motor skills accurate enough to clean herself up. Yondu didn't make any further comment about the process when he picked her back up and took her back into the room. He set her on a makeshift chair, in reality it was a pile of clothing atop a chest, while he made quick work of changing the bedding.

"Can we forego the bondage?" She asked once he had her back on the bed. She was sitting up and he hadn't yet made a move to shove her onto her back. "This is your bed after all. I don't expect you to share it with me."

He laughed and shook his head, "Aren't you a thoughtful Terran. Where do you want me to put you then? Out there in the cargo bay where I found you? Or in the brig?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

"No, that's not what I meant. I am very much in favor of staying in your room, but I would prefer not sleeping in the same bed with you."

Yondu's laugh was shockingly loud and he slapped his knee again. Tommiah could only watch him in silence as he pushed away from the bed and moved towards a pile of stuff in a far corner. He kept chuckling to himself as he rummaged around in the pile. When he straightened again, he tossed a shirt towards her. Her eye-hand coordination was appalling as instead of being able to raise her hand in time to catch it, the shirt smacked her directly in the face and her hand came up almost immediately after. This only further amused Yondu, causing another round of raucous laughter.

"Shit it's going to be a shame to give you to the Collector. You're too damn funny." He took off his trench coat. "And the best part is, you don't have a damn clue how funny you are." With more chuckles and much smirking, he proceeded to shed himself of his coat, his boots, his belt, and his shirt-and he was far too fit for comfort. All this was done and Tommiah had only managed to get the very Yondu-smelling shirt—thankfully he didn't smell half bad—tangled around her neck and one arm. When Yondu saw her sorry state he nearly fell to the floor laughing. "You're absolutely pathetic, Terran lady."

Tommiah grumbled through the fabric of the shirt, "Try waking up from a multiple centuries long cyro-sleep and see how coordinated you are, space pirate."

He surprised her, and perhaps himself, when he came to the bedside and gave her aid. He stood between her legs, where they draped over the edge of the bed, and his strong hands were warm against her skin as he lifted her arm and helped to direct it through the appropriate shirt-hole, before tugging the shirt down over her shoulders. He put his hands beside her hips on the bed, causing him to be eye level and entirely too close—again—once he finished.

"You don't look half bad wearing my shirt," his smirk was lecherous again, "though I much prefer you without it."

Tommiah crossed her arms over her chest, "Too much to ask for pants to go along with the shirt?"

"No, not unless you ask nicely." Yondu had yet to pull away, his expression changing once more to something more intentional and far too intimately inclined to be comfortable.

Tommiah overdramatically clasped her hands in front of her chest and batted her eyelashes at him, "Pretty, pretty please, Mister Yondu Udonta, space pirate Ravager captain, may I have pants?"

Silence fell. Tommiah maintained her dramatized position. Yondu didn't move from his position either, leaning towards her, hands by her hips, face close to hers. She continued to purposefully blink at him, enjoying the momentary victory of rendering him speechless. Her victory quickly changed to utter confusion, however.

"I'm going to kiss you now." Yondu's voice was firm, like that of a superior officer to a lower ranking one.

Tommiah could only blink, "What?"

Warm lips pressed against hers and Tommiah continued to blink, though now in confusion, as it began to register that Yondu was in fact kissing her. He wasn't touching her, aside from his lips, and his eyes remained as open as hers. It took a few seconds for everything to register enough for Tommiah to reach between them and push him away. Yondu was grinning at her then, watching with delight as she reached for her mouth and covered her lips with a hand, her eyes wide with surprise.

"What the hell, Yondu!" Tommiah pulled her hand away and drew her fingers into a fist. She reared up to punch him but he moved, finally, and caught both wrists in his hands. It stung, where his hands gripped her wounds. "I thought you said the cargo was supposed to be 'undamaged' and 'untouched.'" She stopped her struggles but Yondu didn't let go. "I'm fairly certain kissing falls under the category of 'touching.'"

Yondu laughed, "Consider that payment for services rendered." He dropped her hands and stood up straight again, pointing to the shirt. "For the food, the shirt, and," he moved back to the pile and found a pair of stretchy pants that he tossed at her, "the pants."

Tommiah immediately began to arduous task of getting the pants on, growling at him as she did so, "And what sort of payment are you expecting from me for room and board eh? I'm not even here by choice. That's not how business works, you space idiot!"

When she looked up again she only barely managed to avoid locking lips with him, he'd moved so quickly into her personal space. Yondu laughed.

"That's space pirate to you, Terran lady." He pushed at her until she fell onto her back. She tried to fight him at first but once she recognized what he was doing, merely trying to re-secure one foot and one ankle to the bed, she stopped. "And I'll take the time to remind you of an important fact." He leered over her, causing her to press her head firmly against the pillows when he leaned closer. "I never have to use lube when I take my women."

Tommiah groaned as she closed her eyes, earning another laugh from Yondu. In this moment, in this bed beside the settling Yondu, she really did feel like Major Tom, stepping through the door of the unknown, with an almost certain death awaiting her on the other side. And a whole hell of a lot of frustrating confusion before she got there too. No doubt her aunt had felt the same when she'd first come across the alternate timeline. Maybe there was some curse on their family line, a defect in their genetics, that called trouble to them. Because it was a guarantee that Yondu Udonta was trouble incarnate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommiah's head hurt. Tommiah's back hurt. Tommiah's stomach hurt. Tommiah's ears hurt. Tommiah's body was screaming at her from the abuse it had gone through in the mere hours it'd been alert and awake.

She looked to the side and glared at the peacefully sleeping Yondu. The bastard who was completely unaware of her discomfort. The sadistic fiend responsible for her current predicament. With her wrist and ankle secured as they were she couldn't do much in moving around and after years of cryo-sleep, her body definitely felt the need to stretch out and move. Yes, she was exhausted but she couldn't fall asleep stuck in one position. Without the cryo-chamber inducing sleep, there was no way she'd be able to sleep like a log on her back. She'd always been a side and stomach sleeper.

Yondu had fallen right to sleep the minute his mohawk-less head had hit the pillow. He'd looked a little more human and less punk-rocker after he'd taken off the mohawk fin thingy, but the lack of it certainly hadn't changed his personality any. He'd cracked a few more jokes about how sorry he was to be leaving her hanging but would she be good enough not to hit her high "solo" since that'd disturb his beauty sleep. She hadn't busted her brains for words to retort with, too desperate for some semblance of peace during which she could either fall asleep or further process the ridiculousness of her life as it was now.

Tommiah needed to have a plan, of sorts, in how to survive. What was she to do, once her body worked properly and she had "freedom" of movement? The fact that she was to be sold to some Collector didn't bother her too much, because she had no basis from which to be bothered. She knew she could expect in the very near future situations of frustration, pain, possible abuse, getting used—and perhaps maybe she would even use and abuse others in her efforts to get ahead. Maybe it would take getting sold to get acquainted with this new world and new life; maybe in her upcoming slavery she would find a reason to exist and then a way to resist. But all that would be difficult to achieve as she had as much knowledge of this current world as a baby might. And, as the night ticked past and she still couldn't sleep and her body began to ache from being in one position for too long, she was growing as agitated as a sleepy baby alligator might.

Finally, after listening to what seemed hours of Yondu's heavy breathing, she couldn't handle it anymore and she reached out towards Yondu with her free hand. It stopped and hovered in the air over Yondu's shoulder, hesitation setting in when she remembered that this was a space pirate in bed beside her. Maybe touching him first would be a surefire way to lose her hand. She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat.

"Yondu." She didn't bother whispering. He grunted but didn't make a move or give any indication that he was awake. "Oi, Yondu." She spoke louder this time. He still didn't do much more than begin a soft snore. Throwing caution to the wind, Tommiah lashed out with her fist and punched him square in the shoulder. Instead of erupting into movement, as she'd thought a well-trained space pirate would at such an assault, Yondu rolled onto his side, facing her, and kept on emitting snores. Tommiah sighed, "Come on you Ravager bastard, wake up!"

Yondu grunted, "What you squawking like a pink monkey bird for?"

"Wake up and let me go."

"I thought I told you earlier to ask nicely." She could hear the smile in his voice without having to see it. "Or do I need to remind you of that?"

"No reminder necessary and that was for something entirely different." She tugged at her bonds but immediately stopped when the pain reminded her that that was not such a good idea. "I can't sleep like this."

"Like what darlin'? In bed beside me?" Yondu's voice was thick with sleep and Tommiah mentally scolded herself that the sound of it gave her an inkling of pleasure. "Having trouble getting your engines to cool? Don't fake it; the fact that yer in bed with me is really buggin' ya." He rolled onto his back and she felt the bed shift as he gave a full body stretch before settling again.

Tommiah turned her head to look at him and easily found his gaze in the low-light of the cabin. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk Tommiah gritted her teeth before she let out a breathy moan and spoke in a too-high voice, "Oh yes, this is a space daydream come true for me! Please," she reached out and smacked her hand as hard as she could against his shoulder, relishing the feeling of his body jerking in surprise, "send my soul sky high and turn the spark into a flame," she must've surprised him as he didn't resist her tugging when she grabbed his arm and clasped it to her chest in a flamboyantly dramatic gesture, "show me you really care by cuddling up tight with me and keeping me warm. Oh Yondu, Yondu!"

Her voice had reached a wince-worthy careening pitch and she grinned when Yondu jerked his hand away. "You are either some kind of crazy or that cryo-sleep messed with your brain and left you a bit cuckoo."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

Yondu glared at her, "Who are you calling a black pot? What's that supposed to mean? I thought I told you to be upfront with me."

"Get over yourself Yondu." Tommiah winced when Yondu's shifting in bed to sit up caused her ankle and wrist to tug against the bonds. "I've not the strength or interest in fighting you, or any of your men. So you don't have to worry about me 'braining' you or anything and trying to take off with your ship if you let me loose now. I'm as knowledgeable of your ship and how to pilot it as a raccoon."

Yondu's loud laugh, in such contrast to the quiet that'd reigned just prior, hurt Tommiah's ears and she jerked back. "Oh little darlin' you've no idea how capable a raccoon can be." His shirtless body was difficult to track when he turned to rummage around in the bedside stand, his form a shadow among shadows in the faint light. It wasn't too difficult to see his red-hued eyes though, when he turned back to her, and this time she saw the gleam of metal in his hands. "Don't think for one second that I will hesitate to give you a Kree necktie," as he spoke she felt cool metal trace against her throat, from one side to the other; it didn't scare her though—for whatever reason—but she most assuredly believed him, "you better keep to your side of the bed and don't think about getting out of it without asking my permission first. Otherwise I'll have to buy another set of sheets."

Tommiah waited until he'd released both her wrist and her ankle before she replied with a curt, "Thank you." Yondu only grunted before laying back down, this time slipping the knife under his pillow, if she guessed right. Tommiah shifted onto her side and let out a sigh of delight, not caring that Yondu could hear it and would or could take it the wrong way. Pleased with the new position, Tommiah had further energy to offer a sarcastic, "Sweet dreams," to Yondu.

This time Yondu laughed. "I've traveled many worlds and I've seen many things, Terran lady, but I ain't never had someone I'd just threatened death to wish me sweet dreams." He kept chuckling as he turned his back to her.

"Like you said, I must be some kind of crazy then." She closed her eyes. "Two peas in a pod."

It was surprising how easily her body was relaxing into sleep-mode, although a dangerous space pirate with a knife under his pillow lay beside her; although within a matter of days she'd be sold to the ominous sounding Collector; although she was for all intents and purposes now alone in the universe and rather felt like any decision she made would get her head blown off by a ray gun or something.

"I've no clue what you're talking about now." Yondu's voice drifted over her brain like blanket she could wrap up in. "Keep your mouth shut so I can sleep."

Tommiah sighed and burrowed deeper against the pillow, "Yessir."

Before she completely gave over to sleep she thought she heard Yondu's snort of amusement and then silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the two nights since she'd first woken up on the ship, they'd foregone the bonds—though she was sure Yondu had fluffy handcuffs and a whip stashed somewhere—and Tommiah had slept on "her" side of the bed without trouble. Though it was excessively strange to wake up at random hours of the night and hear someone else breathing when for so long, literal years, she'd been completely unaware of her surroundings as she'd slept. But sleep had retaken her each time she'd awakened and things had been fairly tolerable. But the first morning had been excessively awkward—what with waking at the same time as Yondu, near face-to-face with the space pirate, and having to listen to his raunchy comments about the strange sounds she'd made the night before, "like a rutting beast"; she'd assured him it'd just been her snoring and had earned a near-deaf ear from his hoot of laughter so close to her face.

"Keep telling yourself you don't wanna dance with this," Yondu had stood up and gestured to his well-toned shirtless body, "but the truth is something is buggin you, itching at your innards," he'd leaned close and sneered in her face, "but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to leave you hangin' cuz I got me plenty to do and I ain't got time to be jitterbugging with you all morning."

He'd left her secured to the bed, with a leash of sorts that allowed her to crawl her way to the bathroom when needed but little room for her to go around and explore the "man cave" she called her prison/home for the time being. And then she hadn't seen him again until later that night, ravenously hungry and demanding entertainment or else she'd self-harm, rendering his profit for her sale even less.

Instead of calling her bluff as she'd expected him to do, at Tommiah's demand for entertainment he'd kicked a device sitting alone along the far wall. Some music, suggestive in tone and beat, had started playing—it must've been their version of a jukebox. With a lewd smirk, he'd stripped off his trench coat, pulled off his gun belt, and unbuttoned his shirt, all while sashaying his hips in a way that left nothing to the imagination as to what sort of moves he could perform in bed. Tommiah certainly hadn't bothered stopping him, or even gave the offended or horrified reaction that perhaps he'd been hoping for. Hell, this was the most entertainment she'd had in literal centuries—it wasn't every day a mohawk sporting space pirate gave a makeshift striptease.

Instead she'd plopped herself on the bed, with her elbows on her knees, supporting her face in the palms of her hands, a placid smile on her face. Yondu's movements hadn't faltered at her lack of reaction, instead he'd been emboldened to kick off his shoes—not caring where anything fell, lending itself to the mess of his room—and finally ripped open his shirt as the song shifted into something more upbeat. When his dance had him stopping just shy of the bed, Tommiah had clapped her hands slowly and said, "Yondu, you may think you got a pretty face and some good moves but I gotta tell you, the rest of you is out of place for that sort of dance to work." She'd gestured to his messy room and added, "But you looked 'alright' before." At her so-so hand gesture, Yondu had thrown his head back and laughed—it seemed she had the tendency to get that reaction from him.

After he'd finished his striptease and had changed into something more comfortable—stretchy pants like her own and shirtless once more—he'd broken out a pair of glasses and shared some sort of alcoholic drink that tasted like licorice—nasty stuff. He'd also taught her how to play a weird version of Rummy; the three rounds they'd played had her winning each time and he'd cursed her Terran beginners luck while she'd reassured him it was because she was called the Cherry Bomb of cards—she had a natural knack for cards, always had, and it tended to blow up in cocky bastard's faces who thought they were better than her. He'd grumbled something about troublesome Terrans and then called it a night. Tommiah had woken up once or twice through the night, having scooted dangerously close to his body warmth, and had quickly pushed herself back to her side. She hadn't wanted to incur further teasing from the bastard.

But sadly, that very morning had not been less awkward than the one before. She'd woken up nearly burrowed under his body, curled in the fetal position, but with one arm draped around his torso. To her absolute mortification, he'd been awake for some time and oh, he'd given her hell all right for that one. He'd said she was as bad as a handsy teenager; she'd countered that it'd just been a bad night for her. Then he'd gone and done something that'd made her insides flutter—in a very traitorous way mind you—and had turned until his chest hovered over hers, not unlike the position they'd been in many times that first day but now with an entirely different feeling, and he'd said, "I see why you're called a cherry bomb," his hands had surprisingly been somewhat gentle when they'd descended into her hair on either side of her head, "it's because you're in dangerous need of an ignition to feed your flame otherwise you'll explode with want." He'd lowered his entire body down the length of hers at that and had whispered something akin to, "Now lil Terran lady, you don't need to grab at my ignition in the dead of night; I'll be perfectly happy to light your fire and ride you till your sore, if you ask nicely." Although his presence and his deep morning timbre voice, had been seductive as hell—damn him—she'd manage to point out the fact that very few women of any sort of sense would gladly welcome a promise of being sore and could he perhaps get off so she could pee. After he'd lowered his head into the crook of her shoulder and his body shook with laughter, causing Tommiah to hold her breath against the unwelcome shivers his breath against her skin created, he'd rolled away and let her do so.

He hadn't tethered her that morning, though he'd assuredly locked her in based on the sounds the door made after he'd left. And so Tommiah had been left to her own devices for entertainment. She knew she needed to get her stamina up again if she wanted to survive whatever sort of environment the Collector had waiting for her in Knowhere. That thought, combined with her new favorite hobby, Tommiah had immediately launched into action. It probably wasn't the healthiest new hobby of hers, finding ways to frustrate the space pirate, but she couldn't help herself. He was the perfect target—especially with all the hell he gave her in return. After a long but productive day, she had been quite tired and a little curious, perhaps worried, about what sort of reaction her actions would incur but, seeing Yondu's displeasure now—like a petulant child who'd had his toy taken away—Tommiah felt a new surge of energy. She also couldn't wipe away her smile in the face of his incredulous expression.

When he'd first opened the door, he'd been unable to move, unable to speak in response to what she'd done to his room. But after a few initial moments, he'd regained both movement and speech capabilities.

"Can't leave you alone," Yondu kicked the nearest chest of drawers, "can't take you outside," he moved further inside the room, his scowl prowling over the changes she'd made in his absence, "I must be some sort of fool. Ever since I first got mixed up with you Terrans I've had nothing but trouble. First Quill and now you." His prowling scowl fell on Tommiah and she felt her stomach twitch at its intensity. "Yer nothing but a fox that's gone and ruined my den."

Tommiah gestured to the room, now clean and tidy and organized and in much better shape than perhaps it had ever been, "If I'm a fox, I'm the fox you've been waiting for for years, to improve your den, not ruin it." Tommiah knew she sounded overly cheerful as she forced her body to remain casually leaning against the wall furthest away from the door.

Grumbling, Yondu began to advance towards her, a snarl curling the edges of his lips downward. She knew that he would secure her again if he caught her, either to the bed or to some more unpleasant object. He might also throttle her, because she had very much trespassed on a very masculine man's territory—and had enjoyed every moment of doing so. And so, she began evasive maneuvers, pushing away from the wall and tracking Yondu's stalking with mirrored movements of her own.

For some time they continued to circle each other around the room—the movements so much easier now that she'd cleared out all his junk and the floor could be clearly seen and traversed—until Yondu stopped and leaned over the bed, his hands resting atop the blankets. His body was constricted, like a panther about to pounce, but his voice was unhurried when he spoke.

"You know what happens to foxes that run, don't you?"

Tommiah smiled, "They get away. That's why they're called foxes. They're sly, quick-witted, and elusive. Difficult to catch, and damn cute too."

Yondu's chuckle was low-pitched and promised punishment, "You can run all you want, lil foxy Terran, but you can't get away. There's one exit to this room and you can't get out. You can scream all you want too, and ain't nobody gonna come." He began to crawl across the bed, the image almost too enticing to look away from and caused her movements to falter. "I don't like coming back after a long day's work to find my property misplaced and my life turned upside down by a Terran fox. You broke the trust I put in you."

"Seriously?" Tommiah stopped her evading and put her hands on her hips. "I dusted, put your clothes away, and rearranged a bit of furniture. If anything, everything looks better than it did before. Also, I put things in the nearest set of drawers to where you'd tossed them. I figured that had been your intended target before sheer laziness incumbered you." She shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh. "This is no reason to overreact with the ominous sounding, 'you broke the trust I put in you,' crap. I can help you mess it up again if you like, but I needed to DO something-"

Before she could blink or utter another word, Tommiah was quite literally swept off her feet, and promptly smacked into the wall behind her with Yondu holding her firmly against it. She clearly felt every muscle in his body, firm and tense, as he melded his body against hers. Regaining her senses, Tommiah tried to push him away. But he grabbed her arms and crossed them over her chest, pinning them together by her wrists, and leaned into his hold to further solidify his grip. Tommiah bucked her hips against him, kicking out with her feet in her efforts to dislodge him. But he only further frustrated her—in more than one way—when he pressed one leg between hers and basically laid on her—an impressive feat since they were still vertical. She knew she was pinned and yet Tommiah wasn't one to give up easily. She'd let him relax as he gloated and then she'd strike.

"You ain't got a clue how much I wanna thrash you right now Terran." He shoved against her, causing a puff of air to escape her lungs in a rush. "What I'd like to do is to slowly, and thoroughly, show you just who you are and who I am." He brought his head close and whispered, "I'd very much like to see your reactions as I remind you of the power I hold over you." He tipped his head to the side and studied her, his facial features falling into a strange expression she couldn't discern but she knew enough to recognize the lack of mirth. "So, there are things I'd like to DO, Terran, but that don't mean I go ahead and do them. There are codes to abide by. And going through a man's stuff behind his back is a violation of such codes."

Tommiah smiled at him and watched as his face schooled into an expression of uncertainty. Without warning she relaxed every muscle in her body and began to slide down the wall. Yondu grasped at her body, trying to make sense of what was going on, and that was when she used his grip on her against him by raising up with her hands in his, placing her feet flat against the wall, and pushing off with all her might. Yondu let go of her wrists but grabbed her arms as he stumbled backwards, taking her with him. She continued her forward momentum until they basically walked/stumbled back to the bed and fell on it with Yondu beneath Tommiah. Before Yondu could get the better of her, as she knew he would considering he was stronger than she, Tommiah straddled his hips, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and jerked him up to meet her. Unlike Yondu, she didn't announce her intentions before she pressed her lips against his.

She kept her eyes open as she kissed him and saw that his were also open. A moment passed and then his hands were on her arms again and this time he pulled her away, a look of confusion on his face. Tommiah smiled at his bewilderment but made no further movement.

"Do you always keep your eyes open when you get kissed?" she broke the silence first.

Yondu continued to stare at her, "I do when I don't know what the hell that person is trying to do to me."

"Oh, just relax now, Yondu." Tommiah reached up with a hand and patted Yondu's forehead the way he'd done to her the first night. "After this I guarantee I'll let you know first what I'm about to do later." He continued to blink at her and Tommiah sobered up, "I admit I did partially clean up your room to get a rile out of you, which I obviously succeeded at so I win there." Yondu glared at her and tightened his hold on her arms. "But I also did it because I wanted to be productive in some fashion and have purpose again. Waking up to the knowledge that without discussion or consent I'm about to be sold in slavery doesn't do much for one's emotional stability."

Yondu raised an eyebrow, "If you think batting your pretty Terran eyelashes at me and getting me to come closer in order to throw kisses left and right is gonna get me to back out of this deal-"

"No," she pressed a finger against his lips but pulled it back quickly when he moved his head as if he were going to bite it, "no I know better than to expect a space pirate to back out of a lucrative deal." Tommiah laughed. "I wasn't an idiot on Earth and I'd like to think I'm not an idiot now."

Yondu's lips curled cheshire-like into a grin and his hands left her arms to settle on her hips, "Now I wouldn't be too certain of yourself there, Terran lady. You just threw yourself into my arms and flaunted your goods at a notorious Ravager captain. I'd say that's fairly idiotic if you expect to get outta this one without spending a few hours getting the nookie nookie on." He tightened his grip on her hips as he nodded his head to his own words, a self-satisfied smirk still on his lips.

Tommiah wasn't flustered in the slightest and instead laid a hand on his chest as she leaned close and whispered as seductively as she could manager, "Untouched and unharmed."

She felt Yondu's growl of frustration vibrate through her body and couldn't help but laugh when he let go of her hips and fell backwards onto the bed. Tommiah took pity on him and extracted herself from his body, moving to sit nearby on the bed. He had his eyes closed and a scowl on his face, his arms were fisted by his sides, and he looked like he was about to yell obscenities. Tommiah felt only marginally guilty for putting him in this state. He was the one who was selling her after all and while it was true, she couldn't hold that against her per say, she still didn't like it any.

"Poor Yondu." Tommiah reached out and smoothed her fingers over the wrinkles on his forehead. His eyes popped opened immediately. "Didn't expect to have such a hot temptation dangle sweet pleasure in front of you only to realize you can't do squat about it."

Yondu grabbed her wrist and tugged until her face was close to his, "When you shut your eyes tonight, Terran, you're gonna dream of the hours of pleasurable sensations I could put your body through." He raised a hand and ghosted it over her face. "You're gonna gasp and moan out my name as you dream, rubbing your legs together seeking satisfaction," he pressed closer and smiled, "and then you're gonna wake up unsatisfied. And I'll be right there waiting, anticipating that moment, and I'm going to laugh like hell."

At her determined look, Yondu laughed again and let go, rolling away to stand up. Damn him, but Tommiah feared he was right and it would happen exactly as he said. This was so fucked up. She'd basically been born two days ago into a new world and a new age; she'd woken up to a life of captivity and was looking to a future of slavery; and here she was starting to lust after the man who was going to make the biggest profit out of all her discomfort. Maybe he was right and the centuries of sleep really had done a number on her head.

"And tonight," Yondu's voice had her dragging her eyes from the bed covers to his face where he stood by the bed, "yer getting tied up."

She knew what he meant and yet her brain went all sorts of naughty places. When Yondu laughed, having seen the blush creep onto her face, Tommiah groaned and fell sideways onto the bed, reaching up to grab a pillow to cover her face. She yelled out her frustration into the pillow with the sound on Yondu's happy humming in the background.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommiah accompanied a cloud of steam out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel. Citing the fact that she reeked of sweaty underwear and that the Collector wouldn't like smelly cargo in the morn, Yondu had ordered her to take a shower, something she'd not yet done because she hadn't known how to work the fuck-tarded number of levers in the shower stall. Yondu had been surprisingly patient when he'd explained the overly complex process—she'd be tempted to go around stenchy too, like his crew, if this was what every shower stall was like—but then he'd thrown her a curveball and had demanded his clothes back.

"Um, why?" She'd unconsciously moved her arms across her chest, earning a smirk from Yondu. "You don't expect me to waltz into the Collector's place in nothing by my birthday suit do ya?"

Yondu's eyebrow rose, "Is it your birthday?"

"No Yondu," Tommiah pinched the bridge of her nose, "it means naked. When we're born we're all born naked so the term 'birthday suit' means naked."

Yondu had laughed then, shaking his head and declaring that his favorite suit on her was her birthday suit. She'd been unamused and hadn't budged when he'd again asked for the clothing. It'd only been after he'd promised—she'd made him cross his heart and hope to die, another term she'd had a splendid time explaining—to give her something to wear in return that she'd agreed and shooed him out of the room. The bastard had apparently waited until she'd been in the shower—opaque shower door thank the gods—when he'd absconded with the loaned clothes. At least he'd left the towel.

"My," Yondu let out a humming noise from where he lay on the bed, propped against the headboard, "isn't that the prettiest of views." He unabashedly eyed her up.

Instead of retreating in humiliation—which she felt—Tommiah gestured towards his stretch pants and gave her best effort at a saucy grin, "It'd be prettier if you joined me too."

"Well that's a mental image that gives me shivers," Yondu grunted, "because it's too damn cold to be running around in naught but your birthday suit." He got the funniest grin on his face, as if he were checking to see if he'd used the term correctly, and did she recognize that, and wasn't she proud?

Tommiah fought against the prickling of affection towards the goofy grinning space pirate and instead walked to the edge of the bed and put her hands on her hips. She looked at the bed but couldn't see the change of clothes Yondu had promised. When her gaze returned to Yondu's face he had a shit-eating-grin on his lips and it made Tommiah sigh, "Yondu, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

Only the very edges of his smile faltered at her words but he quickly replied, "I've been glad I could have your 'sweet' company these past few days but no, I don't think so, Terran lady." He shook his head and returned his gaze to the handheld device he'd been punching letters into when she'd first come out of the bathroom.

"I think so, space pirate. And the name is Tommiah." She sat on the bed and positioned herself in a mirroring manner to his own, mindful of her towel and its precarious folds and ties. "You're gonna miss my hair," she leaned over and flipped her hair into his face. She wasn't surprised, nor worried, when she felt his fist grip her hair, holding her steady with her head turned so her gaze was on his. His face was increasingly devoid of emotion, to which Tommiah smirked. She purposefully took her time to lick her lips, mentally jigging when Yondu's eyes tracked her movements, "You're gonna miss my taste," she attempted to bat her eyelashes at him, which had Yondu grunting as he released his hold and pushed her back to her side of the bed, with him attempting to ignore her once again. Tommiah was no fool, she knew she was getting to him and so she continued, "You're gonna miss me everywhere in this man cave of a room. Oh yeah, you're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

She reached over to give his head a child-like pat when he grabbed her wrist and jerked her arm. Tommiah fell into his lap, squeaking a bit when she felt the towel loosen its hold around her chest and felt the chill of the air hit her thigh and hip where it'd begun to fall open. Tommiah held onto the folds of her towel with her free hand. Yondu kept a hold of that wrist while with the other hand he wrapped his warm fingers around her neck. He didn't squeeze, and Tommiah didn't fear that he would—and she mentally berated herself at the enjoyment she felt having his hands holding her like this.

"Tommiah," she blinked to clear her head when she realized that Yondu was speaking, "you just don't realize what you do to me when you snark like that."

"Why don't you try me, eh?"

Yondu moved his hand from the front of her neck to the back and used his grip to raise her head towards his so that he could whisper, "Keep that up lady and you'll turn me on. Ms. Unharmed and Untouched."

"How do you know, space pirate, that that is not exactly what I'm trying to do here?"

Tommiah took great pleasure out of the confused look Yondu flashed her moments before he pulled her the final distance and kissed her. This time, for the first time, Tommiah reciprocated by wrapping her arm—the one not still within Yondu's grip—around the back of his head so she could anchor herself better to him. They both kept their eyes open at the initial stage of the kiss, neither of them sure where the hell this was going or what the hell it was, but then Yondu released her wrist, cupped her face, and used his thumb to put slight pressure on her jaw, thereby opening her mouth for the kiss to intensify. Tommiah's throaty moan and fluttering eyes were not feigned in direct response to Yondu's actions. Damn but the space pirate knew how to kiss.

Oxygen, being a requirement for both of their species, caused them to separate not long after Tommiah's uninhibited moan. Judging by the expression on Yondu's face, and his increased breathing rate, it didn't seem likely that that kiss would be all they shared. Therefore, Tommiah was content—for the moment—to have him trace his thumbpad over her lower lip. She humored him a moment before she opened her mouth and lightly bit him. He chuckled but didn't pull his hand away.

"Your lips are sweet," he sounded a bit dazed and Tommiah mentally puffed out her chest at her own prowess as a kisser—and she'd been centuries out of practice too. Yondu lightly kissed her again, slow in pulling back, and whispered against her lips, "As candy."

Tommiah tried to keep in her giggle but failed and earned a scowl from Yondu. Before he could completely withdraw, Tommiah wrapped her other arm around his neck and grinned, "That's probably because I ate some before you came back. But that's really sweet of you to say, Yondu" She gave him a quick peck on both cheeks. "Pun intended."

Yondu sighed, leaning more heavily against the pillows at his back. His expression was strange as he continued to stare at her. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to pursue unbridled "nookie nookie", if she remembered correctly his term for sex. He took away one of his hands and traced it over the crown of her head, through her hair, then stopped at her upper back. He was, if you wanted the accurate term, cradling her in his arms. Yet Tommiah didn't think he—nor she—would be favorable to such a term. And so, she "deleted" it from her mental thinking.

"I think I got some sort of bug from you, Terran lady. It's affecting my judgement."

Tommiah grinned and despite the hazardous nature of her towel's status on her body, she managed to snuggle in closer into his arms, "Well in that case, if you ever change your mind about leaving me behind…"

"There's nothing for me to do." Yondu's grip began to lessen, as if he were about to push her out of his lap. "A deal is a deal."

Tommiah was not one to budge until she wanted to budge and so she held tighter and hurried on, "I can tell by the way that you walk, and the way that you talk, I can tell by the way that you treat me, that you aren't the type to back out of a deal. A space pirate you may be, but you've got your codes and your word that you've got to uphold. I get that." He relaxed again, realizing she hadn't been seriously trying to seduce a change out of him. "So there's no need to be so blue."

"What?" Yondu's face screwed up into the funniest expression it was Tommiah's turn to let out a hoot of laughter.

She let go of his neck long enough to wipe away a laughter-tear, "It's a saying. It means you don't need to be so sad."

"Who said I'm sad?" Yondu genuinely looked confused now, as if emotions had never occurred to him.

Tommiah sighed and extracted himself from his arms. Instead of retreating from him, as his expression told her he'd expected her to do, she kneeled by his side, taking care of her towel, then placed her hands face down on her thighs. "Okay…deal aside…Yondu can you tell me what YOU want?"

"What the hell does what I want matter, hm?" He crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Tommiah once again that he was much like a child in a man's body with many of his mannerisms.

"Even if it doesn't matter, sometimes it's good to visualize what you want. You know, helps you realize what you really want and whether or not you have what it takes to get what you want."

"I want many things," he held up his hand and began to count off its, "upgrades for my ship, some more shiny things for my captain's chair, a new blaster on the scout ship, the one we got has been acting mighty funny past few months-"

He would've continued but Tommiah leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek, pulling back to her original position before he could respond. Yondu dropped his hand to his lap and was silent. She smiled. Yondu kept his gaze averted but she still heard his reply, "I don't want you to be no slave."

"Funny, neither do I." Tommiah chuckled as she lightly punched his shoulder, catching his gaze with her own. She kept on the lighthearted track as she added, "I would rather work all day and have something to show for it." Yondu's frown sobered her play and she reached out again, this time laying her hand on his shoulder. "Talk with me, Yondu."

He looked at her hand on his shoulder, then to her, and then hopped out of bed muttering, "You make me thirsty for another cup of the good stuff."

Tommiah took up residence where he'd been moments before, relishing the feel of warm blankets and pillows against her body—still warm from him—and watched him prowl around looking for a new bottle of whatever that nasty alcohol was. Knowing she had nothing to lose, she pressed forward.

"Drinking won't change the fact that you don't like the idea of selling me into slavery, I don't like the idea of being sold into slavery." She used her hands for emphasis, waving first her right hand in the air and then her left. "You fancy me, I fancy you, despite how fucking ridiculous the situation is. And whether you like it or not, I seem to fit rather nicely in your bed." She rubbed her hands over the tops of the blankets and grinned.

Yondu had stopped his prowling after her first revelation and his eyes had widened to enormous proportions by the end of it all. A heartbeat passed before his laughter, sounding somewhat forced and wholly sardonic, filled the room and he resumed his search, not bothering to reply to her.

"I know you laugh now but maybe, just maybe, you're hurting yourself in all this."

Yondu slammed shut the cabinet he'd been rummaging through and whirled on his heels to glare at her, "This is all because you don't want to be sold off. It's all about you here, Terran fox lady. Don't go tryin to mess with my head with this fancy-schmancy shit. You're a job to me, nothing more and nothing less. And I sure as hell shouldn't mean more to you than maybe a quick fuck, if you're inclined, and a few laughs. Though I've got a feeling that you're fallin in love with me; whatever the hell that means." Yondu gave a shrill whistle and the arrow she'd seen the first day zoomed out of nowhere and snipped across the top of the new bottle, knocking off the lid. Another shrill whistle and the arrow disappeared as quickly as it'd appeared. At her look of surprise Yondu raised his arms to indicate himself and his room, "You don't know a hell thing about me nor I you so I don't see where you think you 'fit' in all this. And for the record, Terran, many women can fit in my bed. I think the most was four at one time." He sneered at her as he drank directly from the bottle.

"What in the hell can you do with four women at one time?" Tommiah tipped her head to the side and honestly tried to imagine the scene but she could only picture tangles of sheets and limbs and numerous unsatisfied females. She'd purposefully avoided his commentary on her heart; that was a ludicrous idea anyway. "One woman can be complicated enough."

Yondu grunted and mumbled, "Don't I know it," around another swig.

"Hey look," Tommiah gestured to Yondu's body as a whole, "I get the feeling that you're in the middle of something. Like some sort of transition period." Yondu merely grunted and went back to drinking. "So, I'm wondering if, in the end, the jewelry and the money and all that, is that what you really want? Or is there something else you're looking for?" Yondu's back was to her as he began punching in more instructions on a different handheld device. Though he was doing his damnedest to dismiss her, Tommiah kept on, "Is that the hole in your heart you're trying to fill? Patching up the gaps with feigned cruelty and meanness? Because for all your bluster and your 'badness' I can't help but think there's, oh my heavens, some good in you."

Yondu slammed down the bottle on the desktop he stood next to and put both hands on either side of the bottle, leaning over the desk, "I'm gonna need two bottles for the way you're jabbering now." He shook his head and spoke over his shoulder to her, "You're wrong about me, Terran lady. There ain't no goodness in me, never was and never will be. I regret not leaving you with the crew, standards of the deal be damned. You're proving to be a damn pain in my ass. Almost more than Quill ever was. Must be your species. A bunch of pain in the asses."

"But you didn't leave me with the crew."

Yondu gave a shrill laugh, "Don't make me out to be no fucking hero. When I look at you I see profit. Leaving you with the crew would've meant less profit. But now that I've got another job lined up right after we drop you off in Knowhere tomorrow morning, I'm not too worried about such details." He slapped the desk. "You know what, maybe I can clear up this shit and take you back out there for a final hurrah before-"

She wasted no time and surprised herself with how quickly she moved. Before Yondu knew what was coming, she had herself practically melded to his back—her towel having come off in her rush and leaving her naked-with her arms wrapping around the front of him, and her head coming to rest on his shoulder. It was dangerously close to a hug, but comfort was not at all what she was going for. Yondu tensed in her arms and she felt his muscles bunch up as he shifted his weight to dislodge her. Further determined, she reached one hand down, slipped it into his pants and, without preamble, took hold of his semi-erect penis. All the air rushed out of Yondu's lungs at once as he reached down to grip the table again when she gave a long, firm stroke down the length of him.

"If there's going to be a final hurrah," She continued to stroke him, unhurried, alternating between a firmer grip at the base and a light grip at the tip as she spoke, "I'd much rather it be with you."

With him leaning over like this, and especially holding his dick in her hand like she was, Tommiah felt empowered. She felt, and heard, Yondu hiss through his teeth, though it wasn't out of pain. He was fully erect now, there was no mistaking that, and standing so close to him Tommiah thought she could see a deeper flush of blue on his neck and cheeks as his breathing rate increased again. She wantonly pressed her breast firmly against the flesh of his back and rocked her hips into his. They both knew he could push her away at any time, though it could cause some discomfort to his friend below—she wouldn't call him a little friend—and yet he hadn't. Tommiah felt further emboldened by that fact and pressed tighter to Yondu, leaning up so that as she whispered her lips would brush against his earlobe.

"The time has come," she was a minx to emphasize the innuendo, "and we can't put it off," she moistened her grip with his precum, earning a vibrating moan from Yondu, "I don't care if your rules say I can't do this," she paused a moment in her talk to nip lightly at his ear lobe and smiled when she felt Yondu's hips jerk in response, "I don't care if others say there are codes or rules anyway, I suck at listening." Again, she was a vixen for her choice of words and it wasn't lost on Yondu as again she felt his body quiver against hers, her pace and grip keeping a steady rhythm. "I was thinking earlier, I have no home or a place to run, and if I get crushed or burned or cast aside by this Collector then I'll be FUBAR for sure."

"I-" Yondu's voice faltered when Tommiah let loose of his dick for a moment to reach further down to gently take hold of his balls, "don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Terran." His voice was deliciously low-pitch and rumbling and Tommiah loved the feel of it against her chest.

Tommiah pressed an open-mouthed kiss against Yondu's neck at the same time that she used her free hand to move up his bare chest until she could trace her fingertips over one of his nipples and the hard planes of his muscles. She resumed her hold on his dick and began to increase the pace.

"I'm saying that I realized," she licked the edge of his ear, "that I want to have my fun now and get in those laughs you mentioned." She could see the sweat build on up Yondu's forehead and she smiled before licking his shoulder, ending it with a soft bite. "And I'm leaving tomorrow. So, what do you say?"

Yondu didn't reply and Tommiah couldn't blame him. She was ruthless about pleasuring him, building him up then begging off and doing it all over again. He must have nerves of steel because most guys Tommiah had known in the past would've lost all patience a long time ago and would've tried to get off quick. Yondu was different. He seemed to be enjoying her torture as much as she enjoyed giving it. This fact had Tommiah pressing another kiss to his neck.

"Can you at least tell me what you need right now?" She was such a bitch, whispering into his ear such a redundant question while she gave him an agonizingly thorough handjob.

He chuckled in spite of the pleasure build up, "You…know…what I need…Terran."

"I have a name, space pirate." She slowed her movements to a near stop and began to pull her hand away from his chest, from where it'd pressed over his heart.

Yondu moved quickly, grabbing hold of the wrist of her hand on his dick to keep it from pulling away and pressing his other hand over hers on his chest.

"Yes?" Tommiah smiled against his skin.

"Finish what you started," Yondu turned his head to look at her over his shoulder and it was Tommiah's turn to feel a rush of desire momentarily rob her of speech at the look on Yondu's face, "Tommiah Jones."

Tommiah smiled and pressed closer, close enough to speak just shy of his lips, "My pleasure." She sealed her lips against his in a hot, awkward-angled, but wholly enjoyable kiss. At the same time, she lived up to her promise, and his request, and most assuredly finished what she started. Yondu's hips jerked of their own accord and he pulled his face away from hers when he came, letting out a shout as his whole body tensed and his ejaculation covered her hand.

They were both panting, leaning over the desk, and though it had been Yondu who'd climaxed, Tommiah felt thoroughly satisfied in knowing she'd done it to him.

"What brought that on, Terran fox?" Yondu grunted when Tommiah extracted her hand from his now flaccid penis.

She looked around for something to clean her hand off with and her eyes fell on the shirt he'd taken from her earlier. With a smirk she maintained eye contact as she used it to wipe off her hand. Yondu's eyes narrowed, but not in irritation; she could tell it was desire. At least now she could tell that.

"While I may, according to your dumb rules, need to remain untouched and unharmed. That doesn't mean I can't touch and or harm those around me."

Yondu laughed, "So which was that, the harm or the touch?"

"You decide." Tommiah finished wiping off her hand and dropped the shirt. She actually liked standing here naked, Yondu's lust-filled eyes traveling from her head to her toes; she felt like a Grecian goddess, only one that was less stony and more inclined to reciprocate the sex. When Yondu continued to merely stand there, staring, Tommiah put her hands on her hips, "Are you only going to stand there gawking or are you going to finally fuck me?"

Yondu's grin turned wonderfully predatory, "Remember, I told you I didn't need no lube with my women."

Tommiah threw her head back and laughed just before Yondu tackled her to the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tommiah was silent as she watched Yondu extract the augment fin-thing from his head. It looked painful, both the taking off and the putting on, and the slight indentation left behind with the circuitry left in the bone of his skull, was still disconcerting to look at. As he leaned over to set the fin on the bedside stand, Tommiah sat up and ran a finger along the edge of one side of his circuitry. Yondu jerked his head away.

"Sorry." Tommiah dropped her hand. "Was just curious." She nibbled her lower lip, "Did that hurt?"

Yondu shrugged, "Not really. Just don't get touched there much, except for upgrades and that sort of shit."

"Upgrades?" Tommiah smirked. "As in like brain upgrades?"

"Very funny, Terran." He pushed at her shoulders and she fell back against the pillows with Yondu hovering over her. "I meant upgrades for the fin."

Tommiah glanced over at the object and asked, "Yeah about that. Is that what controls your arrow?"

"Do you really want to talk about that right now?" Yondu leaned down and kissed her neck right below her ear, causing Tommiah to shiver. "Or would you rather be doing something else?"

"Something else." Tommiah looked back to Yondu and smiled.

Taking that as his cue, Yondu sat back up and ran his hands down her chest, over her belly, and to her hips. Tommiah closed her eyes briefly, relishing the warmth from his hands against her skin as well as the accompanying warmth that spread through her body at his touch. When his hands moved from her hips to her thighs and he began to spread her legs further apart, Tommiah's eyes opened and she couldn't help but shift her weight against the bed, instinctively resisting the blatant vulnerability that accompanying such an action.

Yondu shook his head, "After what you did to me, Tommiah, don't bother pretendin' that you're oh, so shy."

He continued to push at her legs until Tommiah willed herself to follow his lead, not an easy feat, and allowed him to finish the job. Now she lay spread eagle, with her arms coming up over her head to bury themselves under one of the pillows. She knew she needed to keep her hands occupied if she was to allow Yondu to lead here, and she did want him to lead. Turnabout was fair game. Though she was submitting to his touches, that didn't keep the snark from surfacing.

"I'm not certain you'll be able to satisfy me," Tommiah tipped her head to the side as she memorized the sight of Yondu kneeling between her legs, his reddish eyes bright as they traveled over her form, "satisfying one women takes a hell of a lot more concentration and ability than four, Yondu."

Yondu's hands returned to her body and starting at her calves he ran his palms up the length of her legs, stopping only when his fingers met her hips and his thumbs rested in the creases that led to her sex. "Oh, I'll be able to satisfy you," Yondu leaned forward and almost buried his nose in her red curls before he continued his forward momentum and leaned over her face, "until your juices run down your leg." To emphasize his point, he moved one hand to boldly cup her, his middle finger delicately waiting outside her entrance and his palm firmly pressing against her clit.

"Really?" Tommiah had to use a lot of willpower to keep from moving her hips against his hand, seeking to satisfy herself in his arms. He knew exactly what he was doing and she wasn't about to give in where he'd manage to make it through earlier. She would prove to be his equal both in bed and out of it.

His other hand came up to cup one of her breasts, his fingers lazily skirting over her nipple, "What can I say, I'm a natural ma'am," he dipped his head down and lightly bit her trapezius muscle nearest her neck before whispering, "doin' all I can because you know every good lil girl and boy needs to find a little joy."

Tommiah laughed in spite of the building pleasure, her laughter causing her to momentarily sheath Yondu's finger inside her, up to his first knuckle. She heard Yondu hum in response, and felt the vibration of it through where their chests now touched, while she couldn't stop a quick gasp of surprise. Shaking her head to clear the pleasure fog she turned her head on the pillow to look at the smirking Yondu.

"Are you always such a poet when you're fucking?"

Yondu's smile broadened, "We haven't even got to the fucking part, Terran lady."

"Then what do you call this?" Tommiah indicated with a head jut the fact that Yondu practically lay atop her, one hand still cupping and pressing against her sex while the other had taken on a habit of circling her nipple and lightly tugging at it until it peaked and further warmth flooded between her legs.

Yondu dropped his forehead until it rested against hers and closed his eyes a moment, "Let me tell you baby, this is what I call trouble." He removed his hand from between her legs and she watched in fascination as he brought his hand up to his face and sucked his middle finger between his lips. Tommiah all but moaned at the sight and Yondu knew she was holding back from touching him. He braced his forearms on either side of her head and angled his body directly over hers, touching and yet not touching. His dick, already wet with precum, lay heavily against her belly, just above her pubes, and it took every ounce of willpower in Tommiah to not reach down, grab a hold of him, and place him exactly where she wanted him. Instead she fisted her hands, still under the pillow, and grit her teeth together. Yondu continued, "I wouldn't be here, about to fuck away some of my hard-earned units, if you weren't damn trouble." He kissed her then, drawing her tongue into his mouth to taste her, and penetrating her mouth with his own tongue in a way that she very much wanted his hips to do. Yet he again pulled back and smiled at her look of frustration, "I should've quit you long before this."

"Are you really going to sit and you lecture me on all the reasons why you shouldn't reciprocate the 'lil joy' I just gave you?" Tommiah, despite her best efforts, couldn't help but squirm in desire, arching her back to press her breasts again his chest, and then her hips to more firmly have his dick against her body. She was compensated for her frustration when she saw Yondu's eyes close briefly in his own effort to control himself.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Yondu's voice was low again and she recognized the barely held restraint in the deeper timbre.

Tommiah stopped her squirming and sighed out her reply, "Yeah."

"Do you want me to touch you there?" Yondu rocked his hips against hers.

"Hell yeah." To better encourage him, Tommiah spread her legs further and bent one knee.

Yondu stopped his movements, "Where?"

Tommiah narrowed her eyes at him and hoped that he could see the murder behind her gaze as she growled, "Are you going to fucking touch me or not?"

"Oh yeah." Her body was cold then as Yondu sat up on his haunches and shook his head at her. "But I should've listened to my second mind and left you with the crew. There ain't nothing good going to come of this." His eyes traveled the length of her body and though his words said one thing the appearance of a deeper blue flush on his skin, his erect penis proudly pressing into his stomach, and the possessiveness in his gaze, all said another.

Tommiah swallowed a biting retort and instead tried to go for logic, "We've been here too long Yondu, with you trying to get along with your conscious to justify fucking me. And you know, talking's fine, if you got the time, but we haven't got the time to spare. In a matter of hours, you're going to deliver me to the Collector and then you'll be well rid of me. But don't you fucking dare think that you're going to do all that without first finishing what you've started here."

"My, my, my a little touchin' and a whole lot of talkin' and you're all turned on and demandin' aren't you?"

Tommiah closed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth, "It's because my temperature is running high."

"Are you sick?" He didn't sound concerned in the slightest and the sarcasm dripping from his voice had Tommiah's eyes shooting open and she sat up to lean on her elbows, glaring at Yondu.

"Don't you dare make me beg on my knees, Yondu. You know exactly what I want." She surged upward and wrapped a hand around his neck, jerking him forward until their noses almost smashed together. "Can't you see that your lording my desire over me is wasting time. You said so earlier yourself." Yondu still didn't move to touch her and Tommiah groaned. She let go and fell back against the pillows again, throwing her arms over her face to shut out the sight of the space pirate bastard between her legs. "I'm going to scream if you don't do something more than just fondle me to sexually frustrated death."

"Go ahead and cry out," Yondu sounded ridiculously amused and Tommiah wanted to punch his teeth out at the same time that she wanted to throw him to the floor and fuck him senesless, "we ain't got no one to hear us an' we got so much to do right now."

Tommiah pulled her arms away from her face and looked at him, "Then DO something!" She clenched her fists at her sides to keep from reaching for him again.

"Why don't you tell me what you want me to do?" He crossed his arms over his chest and looked stupidly smug.

Tommiah was no longer interested in playing games and kept her gaze steady, her voice steady, and made her desires very, very clear when she said, "I want you to bury your cock inside me and fuck me so hard that I won't be able to walk right tomorrow when you leave me with the Collector and I'll feel the ache of your cock's absence for days after."

Yondu was speechless a moment, his eyes widening and even from this distance she saw his nostrils flare. The flabbergasted moment passed and he spoke as he uncrossed his arms from over his chest, "What a mouth you've got, Terran lady." He chuckled and began to lean forward, slowly crawling up the length of her body. "And that image is whirling like a cyclone in my mind now. Quite nice really." He made a low-pitched humming noise again before he asked, "Anything else?"

"I want you to drive me to cum harder than I've ever cum before and I want to come apart in your arms while you fill me with your cum." Her words seemed to surprise but also excite him, if the wide-eyed stare he now gave her as he leaned over her face was any indication. Tommiah lifted her head off the pillow and whispered against his lips, "Because I want every part of you inside me and I want to remember what it feels like to have your cum drip down my legs along with my own juices when we finish."

Yondu's eyes closed and she saw him shudder. When he opened his eyes again he smiled at her, "I'm gonna fall right out of bed if you keep talkin' like that."

"Then let's skip the talking and take care of business, shall we?" Tommiah couldn't hold back any longer and she reached up to skim her fingers along the sides of his skull until she latched her hands together behind his neck. She arched her back then undulated her hips against his to emphasize her point.

"Oh woman," Yondu's voice sounded possessive and Tommiah felt something primal inside her thrill at the sound, "I want you now." He reached down and took hold of her hips, angling himself at her entrance. "Hold on fast because there ain't no brakes to this ride."

As she felt the tip of his cock press into her Tommiah grinned, "That better be a promise, Yondu Udonta."

"Fuck!" Yondu sheathed himself inside her and their combined cries echoed in the room.

~~~~~~~~~

As far as he could remember, Kraglin had operated according to a 12-step code of work ethics. Of course, "work ethic" and life as a Ravager could be considered oxymoronic but the cap'n was right: there were codes to follow as a Ravager and Kraglin had twelve that he followed regarding his work as the first mate to Yondu Odonta.

12 Steps to being an excellent First Mate: as explained by Kraglin Obfonteri

1\. Understand what a first mate is, and what his duties are—this of course depended upon what sort of job the cap'n took. Sometimes it was saving the galaxy—that had happened at least twice now and was always connected to that scrap of a Terran Peter Quill and his cohorts—and how in the hell they had managed to save the galaxy instead of destroying it was a freakin' miracle just itching to be questioned. Obviously, when Kraglin tried to tell the ladies he'd saved the galaxy—or at least had helped those who had—they didn't readily believe him. It was a damn shame too, because he had A LOT to offer the ladies.

But when they weren't saving the galaxy, Kraglin found himself playing babysitter to strange creatures or cargo in berth; nursemaid to injured shipmates who'd taken a beating on one of their jobs; janitor for the shit messes that resulted from disagreements both onboard and off; hostage negotiator for when those disagreements took a step beyond fisticuffs; counselor to the cap'n—though this job was particular dangerous because more than once he'd gotten thrashed in the line of duty; and then last, but not least, typical first mate with first matey jobs to do—and that ranged greatly as well. Kraglin sometimes really didn't know how he managed to do as much and be as much as he was—and seriously the ladies really needed to start noticing because he was no joke.

2\. Obey orders in a timely and certain fashion—Kraglin prided himself on being autonomous enough but also aware enough of end-goals to make decisions without bothering the cap'n over much. He knew he tended to think things through at a different pace than the cap'n but they balanced each other out well enough; or did now better than they had before. His cap'n was a bit of a wild card, tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, and allowed his emotions to guide him. Kraglin would shoot you in the eye before he ever admitted that directly to the cap'n, as that'd just result in another thrashing if not death outrightly. But his knowledge of the cap'n, of the crew, of how Ravager factions meshed or fought with each other, allowed him to obey orders, bend orders, and make orders of his own and all in the timespan he was usually comfortable with. Only the one time had he ever doubted the orders given by the cap'n…and Kraglin still woke up sweating from the night terrors of the results of that mistake. Never again would he venture down such a path.

3\. Understand space and vessel language—in his efforts to understand his father more, whenever he'd bothered to come home sober-ish, Kraglin remembered pouring over any resource he could find about Ravager ships and factions. He'd wanted to have something to talk about with his dad, something they could share; at least something beyond the periodic drunken beatings he got that his dad insisted were for his own good to keep him being too "sissy." In the end, it hadn't mattered to his dad…Kraglin could've talked about loving an air Kree goddess and his father would've had the same attention span. But at least his studies had served him well enough—once he'd escape the hell that'd been his home—and had gotten him this gig with Yondu.

4\. Know the functional elements of the vessel—he also—NOW—knew how to break out of the brig, how to break others out of the brig, as well as the various override programs that were programed, and reprogramed, and overprogrammed into the ship. He would never allow another "Taser Face" incident to happen in his time serving. Over his dead body. And that was something worth dying over.

5\. Keep morale up—it'd been under his not-so-subtle suggestion that they'd returned to the pleasure planet Contraxia for some RnR after having saved the galaxy and completed three jobs in a row—two of them being especially taxing on the crew's morale and their loyalty to the cap'n. They hadn't liked taking a pay cut for the job to the Collector in Knowhere some months back. Having relinquished the cargo over to Stakar's crew after the cap'n had gambled it away in the first bar they'd come to at the outpost, preferring to take Stakar's cargo's profit over that of the Collector's, that'd been hellish to explain away to the crew. The cap'n hadn't offered any explanation to the crew, no justification either, and it'd taken a good many days to placate some of the more cantankerous shipmates to be forgiving of the cap'n's choice.

Kraglin had known—or assumed he knew—why the cap'n had did what he'd done, though he had yet to confront the cap'n with that assumed truth. When cap'n had told him to transfer the cargo from their ship to Stakar's, and to do vice versa with the cargo in Stakar's ship, Kraglin hadn't tried to talk him out of it. He wasn't about to confront the cap'n on matters of the heart…or whatever it was that caused the cap'n to do what he did.

Their latest job had made a better profit than expected and that, combined with the time here at Contraxia, had further smoothed the feathers of the crew.

6\. Run a tight ship—ain't nobody does nothing on the ship now that Kraglin didn't know about. He had spies in all levels of the crew, and spies on his spies. If another Taser Face tried to surface, he'd get cut down before he could spout off his ridiculous name in his reach for personal glory.

7\. Communicate effectively with the crew—this was easier said than done. There were more than a few shipmates who had yet to learn the standard dialect that they used on ship, coming from the colonies on the edge of the galaxy as they did. And then there were the ones who preferred to communicate through violence, and that was a headache figuratively as well as literally to deal with. Kraglin had never been much for working out and bulking up, but ever since the Taser Face mutiny and then taking on some more irritable shipmates since, Kraglin had felt forced to work out again. He hated it.

8\. Stay in top shape—he'd never admit it to anyone, at least not willingly, but he hated eating meat and had to eat a special diet to make up for the lack of protein—but he'd managed to keep this a secret for years now. Not even the cap'n knew about it. He'd always had been this way, ever since he was a kid. He would try to sneak the kitchen animals out, back into their natural habitat, coming up with the dumbest excuses—and it was no wonder his mother had thought him touched in the head because they'd been some lame ass excuses too. His dad had beat him pretty good more than once when he'd got caught. But they were so cute: fluffy and scaley and wrinkly, and their eyes were always so big and round and innocent. And he wasn't biased to any one type of animal either; he loved them all.

The cap'n liked shiny knickknacks to put on his consul and in his room. That was no secret. But Kraglin kept his love of animals a bit more secret. Especially the stuffed raccoon he'd found in a bazaar years ago; it'd been before they'd ever met Rocket. Death would swiftly come to anyone who ever found that stuffed animal in his quarters or who found out and also told Rocket about it. Damn but that'd be awkward to explain.

And why in the hell did folks insist upon eating something that was purer and kinder than any other creature in the galaxy? Sentient beings were assholes. He and the cap'n were living proof of that. Peter Quill even more so.

9\. Observe space for unusual events—well this was the easiest part of his job in all truth; ain't nothing normal happened in space.

10\. Get to know all the hands on the ship personally—he was the one who made the recommendations for new shipmates to the cap'n and he'd most assuredly learned his lesson after Taser Face on just what sort of qualities were a necessity in a shipmate. Finding "quality" amongst Ravager factions wasn't as difficult as an outsider might think, but it still took time and that was one reason why Kraglin preferred to keep current crew members well-trained, in good health, and happy (enough) than to have to keep replacing them due to death or desertion.

11\. Make yourself available at all times, for both the captain and crew—crew not so much as cap'n…and the cap'n kept odd hours. It was starting to effect Kraglin's beauty sleep. And he needed that for the ladies after all.

12\. Know your captain—this was the easiest yet hardest and most challenging of all his duties. Knowing how to approach the cap'n, soothe the cap'n, encourage the cap'n, stand up to the cap'n, and more—and all without getting shot—was a damn balancing act with his life as the line upon which he balanced.

It was the twelfth step that had Kraglin frowning, smoothing his hand over his freshly shaven face—not that the ladies had been impressed…it'd only made him look more like a child. He watched his cap'n knock back yet another drink in the galley, sitting alone in the far end of the room. The last of the crew was due back from Contraxia by the end of the hour and it would do no one any good to have Yondu surly AND drunk before they departed onto the next job—though the cap'n had yet to reveal just what that job was or where they would be going.

For the week they'd been docked in Contraxia, the cap'n had either been dick-deep in the pleasure droids or drowning in booze. While that was to expected at a pleasure planet, it wasn't normal for the cap'n; at least not in this excess. Kraglin knew that something needed to be said or done, a risk to be taken, if he wanted to keep the crew together and keep the cap'n from screwing himself over like he had with Peter Quill. Nodding to one of his more trusted shipmates, who promptly disappeared into the adjoining room, Kraglin squared his shoulders and approached.

"Hey there cap'n," he clapped his hand on Yondu's shoulder then quickly pulled it away—mindful of the fact that the cap'n DID indeed bite. "It's 'bout time we got to go and get away from here; been sittin' idle for too long next to this here pleasure planet." He sat down on the bench beside the cap'n and waited for any sign of recognition. Yondu didn't even bother grunting before he poured another drink from the immense bottle sitting in front of him; Kraglin knew Yondu could hold his booze but he couldn't help but be impressed that a quarter of the bottle was already gone and yet Yondu wasn't drooling on the ground. Kraglin leaned his elbows on the table and continued, "And we've got the power packs all geared up and we've got all the supplies we could possibly need and then some. And though we had a few bang ups with the gang getting' them back onboard, I think overall we can say that this has been a good run. Something to celebrate really."

His cap'n finally responded. He waved the glass in front of Kraglin's face and grinned, "Can't see what I'm doin' now?" He downed the drink in one go, Kraglin wincing at the knowledge how much that must've burned in his throat, before Yondu reached for the bottle again.

"Yeah…" Kraglin scratched the back of his head, "you know cap'n I noticed that the past few days something was kinda off about you." Yondu finished pouring the drink and this time began to sip at it, not looking at Kraglin though the first mate knew he had his cap'n's full attention now. He soldiered on, "Um…like a bomb that's ready to blow."

"What you talkin' about?" Yondu slammed the glass down on the table, some of its contents leaping over the brim of the cup and onto Yondu's hand. He licked at his fingers. "Don't you fool around with me now, Kraglin. I ain't in no mood for it." He shook his head as he continued to glare at Kraglin, "I'll take you down." After another moment, during which Kraglin didn't breathe, Yondu turned his attention back to his glass and picked it up, mumbling around the brim. "'cause right about now I think it'd be a thrill to kill something. I got my gun at the ready…"

"I ain't foolin' around with ya cap'n." Kraglin waved his hands, palms facing toward the cap'n in his efforts to further assuage his cap'ns ire. "But I feel like I gotta say something, you know before the men start to ask questions or anything."

Yondu gripped the glass so tightly Kraglin feared it might shatter. "Nobody's gonna get me on another rap. Not like before."

"Oh of course cap'n, but that's not-"

"I mean it was hella fun for what felt like an hour." Yondu's grip lessened along with his tongue. "After that, shit got sour. I feel like I'm in a trap of my own makin'; like a trip I can't come to grip. I never thought I'd be one who'd slip like this. Have you ever thought that you were living one big lie?"

Kraglin blinked. He didn't know what to do with a talkative cap'n. Surly, silent, glowering. He knew what to do with that kind of cap'n. But a cap'n who talked, offered up not only opinions but also questioned his opinion: Kraglin was charting new territory now. "Um…well cap'n, I wouldn't say a 'lie' exactly but," he sighed and ignoring the confusion Yondu's question created he spit it out, "well ever since we left Knowhere it felt like we were running away from something. Like we grassed somethin' or someone and had to get as far away from there as possible. And you seem like you're holdin' something back. Not profit or anything like that, but something inside you that's eatin' away at you and robbing you of sleep or something."

He braced himself, only barely refraining from closing his eyes against the expected attack. But Yondu didn't attack. In fact, he didn't even blink at Kraglin. His eyes seemed strangely sober now that Kraglin looked closer, and it was damn unnerving.

"Yeah." He finally spoke and Kraglin had to mentally shake himself back into the moment. "Well sometimes you've got to run away. Pack your things up and go. Away from the frustrations that could get into the heart of you."

Kraglin had not freakin' clue what the cap'n was talking about now. He knew it had to do with what was eating the cap'n, assumed that it had to do with the cargo they'd exchanged at Knowhere, but was cautious about how to proceed. While the cap'n seemed together enough now to not thrash Kraglin, there was no guarantee that that wouldn't change in a heartbeat. "Hmm…yeah but like there's nowhere to go though is there? You know where we won't toss and turn because we can't sleep at night for all the pains in the asses we've had to deal with over the years."

It was another tense moment that passed before Yondu poured himself another drink. Something was most assuredly off about the cap'n. Usually Kraglin would've had his ass chewed off by now and they'd be underway, Kraglin scuttling down the corridor with a boot print on his head or something. But nope. They were still sitting at the galley table, looking as if they were having high tea or some shit like that.

"Have you ever met a girl, thought she was grand though she was a fuckin' tease? And you fooled around but then it all came unglued? And then you knew in your gut that she fucking hated you?" Yondu glared into his glass then leveled an unnervingly steady look on Kraglin.

He couldn't keep himself from shifting on the bench in discomfort, "You talkin' about someone in particular cap'n?"

"Of course not!" Yondu guzzled half the drink then pulled the glass away to stare at its swirling contents, waiting for Kraglin to continue.

"Didn't think so. Hmm…" Kraglin glanced over his shoulder to see if the shipmate had finished but there was no sign of him so he continued to play along with the cap'n, "well maybe I-"

"You know one minute we're picking up some space trash," Yondu interrupted Kraglin and spoke as if Kraglin hadn't, "and we're gonna make some major profit that'll take us to the high streets and into the heart of profit city. You know where all the women are, who want a man of the high streets, and no more of those damn pleasure droids. We get into a rhythm of things and it's like we can own the town. Like we all but got crowns on our heads. And everything fits; and everything goes. But then fuck all happens."

"That's how it is sometimes I guess, cap'n."

"And you know I ask myself, why should I worry?" Yondu waved the glass around, his words somewhat slurring and his mannerisms alerting Kraglin that though his gaze may be steady, his body and mind were more unhinged than normal. "Why should I care? I may not have a dime past this here ship and crew but I got the smarts to know how to come back from this kinda thing. It's not like there's any more of me I coulda offered anyway. I gave all someone like me could give."

The fuck he talking about? Kraglin felt compelled to pat Yondu on the shoulder but found at the last minute, his hand awkwardly hovering in the air over Yondu's shoulder, that he hadn't the courage to do so. He retracted his fingers into a fist and did an awkward jab into the air when Yondu eyed his hovering arm. "There ain't nothin' more anyone could ask of ya cap'n. You give it all when you give. That's the damn truth there."

"But that's not nearly all!" He finished off his drink and spoke faster. "I remember when I was young and dumb. I ran straight into shit like this. But now I gladly run from it because it's tainted. Everything like this is tainted." He again slammed the glass down, the table vibrating against Kraglin's braced elbows.

"Well isn't everything tainted, like love and like and luck, primitive? Like a wild gift that you want to break out of captivity?" Kraglin frowned. He didn't even know where he was going with all this but his mouth kept moving and words kept falling out like shit words out of an asshole. "It's like a freakin' uncivilized jungle child. Like a child with a gun, shooting at the walls of your heart until it aches and you bleed out."

Despite the verbal shitstorm that'd just tumbled out of his mouth, Yondu was nodding his head as if he'd understood whatever the hell it'd been that'd just been spouted. This was further proof to Kraglin that 1. Yondu was drunk and 2. Yondu was not himself.

"Every shit passion takes another bite outta my soul, Kraglin. And it makes me wonder who the hell is the hunter and who the hell is the game being hunted?"

Kraglin scratched his head and thought a moment, trying to figure out how he could encourage the cap'n now even if he wasn't quite sure what they were talking about. "Well at least it is like a hunt and it isn't a barrel of fish to shoot into. You ain't caged or nothing. And you certainly ain't tame."

Yondu grunted his agreement and was reaching for the bottle again when the intercom system overhead crackled to life causing him to pause in his movements. Instead of an announcement or warning coming, the first strains of strange music began to play. Yondu looked to Kraglin who used every ounce of his Ravager acting training to feign equal amounts of confusion.

The music gave way to a male voice and the words were clear as thunder, "When your baby leaves you all alone, and nobody call you on the phone. Doncha feel like crying…"

"What shit music is this?" Yondu finished reaching for the bottle and poured another generous drink.

Kraglin hid his smile and explained, "Some of the boys found some more of Quill's music in the archives. They thought it might cheer…might be nice to listen to while we wait for the rest of the crew to get back before we get underway."

Yondu grimaced as he sipped at the drink, the continuing lyrics to the song not sitting well with him if his facial expression was to be trusted.

"Well, here I am, my honey c'mon baby, cry to me. When you're all alone in your lonely room, and there's nothing but the smell of her perfume…"

"Shut that shit off!" Yondu turned on the bench and yelled towards the galley door before turning back to hover over his glass, his shoulders slumping further down as if in defeat.

Kraglin also turned and when he saw the same shipmate from before he gave him a special nod that he hoped the cap'n wouldn't notice. "Hey cap'n says turn off the music!"

"Workin' on it!" The shipmate winked and disappeared again. Instead of the music cutting out as Yondu no doubt hoped it would, after a few more crackling moments, it returned and louder this time, and lyrics clearer than before.

"Nothing could be sadder than a glass of wine alone. Loneliness loneliness, it just a waste of your time, oh yeah. But you don't ever you don't ever have to walk alone…"

Yondu's voice held a threat of thrashing or death when he asked, "Why do I still hear this shit?"

"The boys told me earlier that they're having to rework some wires. There was a short. It might be connected to the intercom." Kraglin knew it sounded like a lame ass excuse, not much different from the ones he'd offered his mum and dad when he'd get caught saving chickens and the like. But unlike his parents, who saw through his assholery, Yondu seemed to buy the excuse and glowered into the last of his drink.

"You see, come take my hand, and baby, won't you walk with me? Whoa yeah…When you're waiting for a voice to come in the night there is no one…doncha feel like crying…" The music began to repeat itself and Kraglin could sense the moment when Yondu's control had all but snapped so he was prepared when his cap'n shoved himself unsteadily to his feet and began to step over the bench to swerve his way to the galley door. Kraglin was on his feet and hovering just to the cap'n's side.

"Don't push your luck back there, you bastards." Yondu was yelling as he moved slower than he most likely thought he was going, and Kraglin was thankful for that. "If you don't shut this shit off now Imma gonna come back there and I'm gonna beat the flack outta your asses. Won't even use the arrow. Just gonna use my fists-"

"We're workin' on it cap'n!" His shipmate sounded genuinely scared as he yelled back. "We're abusin' every one of them wires trying to find the problem and it's all runnin' wild back here!"

As if to punctuate the chaos that was erupting in the adjoining room as well as in Yondu's head the music grew in intensity as the singer repeated the phrase, "Doncha feel like crying…"

Yondu slammed his fist into the wall, using it steady himself, "If it takes much longer I'll be glad to come back there to tie a noose with them loose wires. I think we've got a few crates in storage we could use as hearses!"

A few more crackles and then blessedly the music stopped and Kraglin mentally sighed with relief. He never liked playing tricks like this on the cap'n but sometimes it was necessary to get him to get his ass into gear. Especially when he didn't seem to be aware of the fact that he wasn't in gear to begin with. Kraglin kept his face devoid of emotions when Yondu finally turned to glare at him.

"Now it's over and I'm glad. You know I really am glad. 'cause otherwise I'd be a fool."

Kraglin blinked. They were back to speaking in riddles. He couldn't let it go any further though. Putting the wholeness of his hand at risk, Kraglin reached out and patted Yondu's shoulder.

"That's what life is about I s'pose cap'n. Living and learning." He pulled his hand away when Yondu began to eye it as if he were going to eat it. "So where we heading now? What's our next job?"

Yondu's eyes were sober again when he brought them back to Kraglin's—and again Kraglin was floored at just how much the cap'n could drink and not have his liver mutiny.

"I hear tell that Quill's got something he shouldn't," Yondu's lips began to curl upwards into the devious smile that spelled equal amounts of profit and peril to any around him, "and I've a mind to go relieve him of said item."

~~~~~~~~

Peter Quill, collectively known as the Great and Powerful Starlord (or just Starlord), former Ravager prisoner/ward, part-Terran, son of the now thankfully-departed planet Ego, and leader of the strangest group of assholes in the galaxy, frowned as he looked through the viewing scope for the umpteenth time that evening. "This was a bad idea."

He pulled the scope away and glanced at what teammates he had crouched next to him along the cliff edge across from the joint they were casing. They'd been there for what seemed hours, but he knew it had maybe been one, two at most, and he needed to take a piss. This getup of his, however useful in a fight and for getting the ladies engines running hot, was a damn nuisance when it came to bodily functions. Looking at the facial expressions of his teammates now, he could tell they were just as antsy for action as he was—and maybe they too wanted to take a leak.

Rocket was the only one who smirked, his scope still pressed against his eyes, "Every idea you have is a bad idea, Quill."

"I don't recall THIS being my idea." Peter drew back, looking over to Drax and Groot for confirmation. Neither offered visual reassurance.

"Oh really?" Rocket lowered his scope enough to give Peter one of his condescending glares. Peter hated those glares. They made him feel two years old, especially when Rocket was right—which he'd never admit to the mayhem-loving racoon, but that tended to be more often than naught. "Well as I recall, you said that given our contact's specialized tastes, that the girls would be better at getting the information we need from him."

Peter tipped his head to the side in surprise, "I said that?"

"Well you didn't sound as intelligent as I just did but yeah you said something along those lines. Which is amazing considering how small your brain is in proportion to the rest of your body." Rocket chuckled at his own insult before bringing the scope back up.

"Gee, thanks." Peter didn't look back through his scope yet. He instead looked over the edge of the precipice and shuddered. They were hundreds of feet above the acid ocean but even from this height he could hear the sizzle and crack of the surf as it pounded against the cliffs. Rock slides were often here and the only reason why the joint across the gulley was still standing was because of the special material used in reinforcing the cliff upon which it was built. Their cliff, however, could suffer an inopportune slide at any time. Which furthered Peter's desire to piss and move on with life. From the way Groot was growing and retracting limbs to draw pictures in the dirt as well as build little towers from the stony debris around them, Peter could tell the adolescent was growing bored. A bored Groot was a difficult Groot. Drax also seemed to be suffering from the wait. He'd sharpened all his weapons and had requested Rocket's and Peter's to sharpen as well. Once he finished that Peter knew they would need to find something else to entertain him with or suffer the consequences of an idle Drax. With a sigh, Peter brought the scope back up and began to restudy the interior of the building. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"The details of how to get the coordinates were very much left up to the girls and it seems to me that their improv skills are…" Peter heard Rocket's chuckle, "entertaining."

Peter had barely a chance to see what Rocket was laughing at when the scope was yanked away and Drax looked through it instead. He was faster at finding the source of Rocket's amusement than Peter had been and Peter watched as Drax sat up straighter and his grip on the scope tightened.

"Gamora appears to be in physical pain. Should we not assist her?" he asked, pulling the scope away just long enough to look at both Peter and Rocket in question. Peter had not a clue what Drax was talking about but he knew without looking that the likelihood of Gamora being in physical pain was little. The woman was more likely to inflict physical pain on others than to have any herself—though he knew she felt pain, she was just damned good at hiding it.

"She's not in physical pain, Drax," Rocket's voice was sarcastic when he replied, "she's in mental pain."

Drax lowered the scope again and blinked at Rocket, "Then should not Mantis assist her since she is close by?"

"Gamora would cut Mantis in half before she let her touch her." Rocket also lowered his scope to look more directly at Drax. "No, the mental pain Gamora is going through right now is more along the lines of restraining herself from annihilating the DJ." He chuckled again and went back to studying the scene Peter no longer had access to seeing. "I can hear that that is shit music even from over here."

"I am Groot." Peter looked over to the tree creature and watched as he flicked a twig finger at one of towers causing it to tumble down.

Rocket nodded, "You can say that again, little guy."

"I AM Groot." Groot's voice would sometimes crack now, whenever he tried to sound stronger or bigger than he was, and it didn't help that it did so now.

"Okay, okay, you're not so little anymore." Peter could hear the restraint on his humor in Rocket's voice. But the restraint didn't last long with Rocket's next comment. "But you're as sensitive as a teenager. Need to learn when to take a joke kid."

Groot smashed another tower, this time with his fist. "I am GROOT."

"I'll keep that in mind, don't you worry. I'll file it away with the other essential comments you all tend to make every day." Rocket was shaking his head and Peter hid his smile. Even though he knew he'd just been insulted by the fiend, Peter couldn't help but find the dig amusing.

He did want to see what was going on though, but wasn't about to rip the scope out of Drax's hands; that wouldn't end well. "Rocket, do you see the contact?"

"Nah, disappeared almost as soon as they went inside. Right now, I'm keeping my eyes on beef-head twinkle toes by Mantis. She's about to get an anatomy and physiology lesson if they don't get the coordinates and get out soon."

Drax lowered the scope and looked over to Rocket, his expression one of clear disagreement. "I do not think Mantis needs such a lesson and it is illogical for one such as that man to offer. I do not think he is qualified."

"I mean that buffoon is going to have his way with her if they don't get a move on."

"What way will do you think he will take her?" Drax returned his attention through the scope and appeared to be looking at the various exit options. "And how do you know his way?"

"Seriously? Quill," Rocket eyed him through his peripherals and indicated the monitor Peter had attached to his wrist, "have any of them relayed the coordinates to you yet?"

"Nope." He double-checked the screen nonetheless and again shook his head. He then looked over to Drax, "And Drax, Rocket was saying that that man will attempt to mate with Mantis if they don't leave."

Drax tightened his grip on the scope and this time Peter did rescue it, afraid the warrior would break it otherwise. Drax shook his head and his frown was intense when he spoke, "I do not think Mantis would want to mate with that man." He nodded, as if he'd just had a discussion with himself internally, and began to stand. He looked like he had every intention of using the power pack on his back to jet over to the building, thereby jeopardizing their job. "She may need assistance."

"Whoah, whoah there Drax." Peter reached out and grabbed Drax's wrist, giving it a hearty tug but letting go almost immediately after. "We know that. But hold your horses there buddy, and let's wait just a few more minutes to see if they're successful or if all hell breaks loose." He held his arms out in a placating fashion, hoping his powers of persuasion were enough to satisfy the hulk.

Drax looked at Peter strangely before he said, "I have no horses to hold."

"I am Grooooot." Groot rolled his eyes and fell onto his back, dust splaying up around his heavy form.

"That's just his way, Groot, his people can't help but be literal." Rocket had begun to lean forward in his perch but still spoke to the rest of them. "And who are you to judge, to a casual observer you have a vocabulary of three words."

Groot kicked a tower, sending the rocks tumbling over the edge of the cliff. "I am Groot."

"I know they're very expressive three words but you get my meaning, right?" Rocket's fingers adjusted some of the settings on the scope. "I see the contact now!"

"Where?" Peter raised his own scope and resumed his study of the building.

"Uh…with our expendable. Upper right deck, near those ridiculous looking statues."

Peter moved his scope accordingly, readjusting until the screen was clear. "I see them." He trailed the viewing scope downwards and to the left and smirked at what he saw. "Gamora does too it seems, she's moving towards the stairs."

"And Mantis?" Drax's breath was hot and putrid as it fanned across Peter's face. Peter jerked to the side in his efforts to escape the proximity to the fighter and the smell. "Is the man still attempting to mate with her?"

Peter homed in on the location the man had been in just moments prior and sighed, "Er, um, no, he's asleep on the ground. I think she put him to sleep. His friends don't seem to be too happy about that either and they're circling in."

"Should we not assist Mantis now?" Drax was again standing, his hands on his hips as he stared down at them.

Groot also rose to his feet, now standing taller than all the rest of them but far skinnier than he'd been in his original form. He mimicked Drax's position by putting his hands on his hips and proclaiming, "I am Groot."

"No, you can't go play heroics just yet Groot. Until we get the coordinates, we need to wait here. If we go in there shooting the place up the girls are more likely to get caught in the crossfire and we'll lose the coordinates, our contact, and this job." Peter looked down at the monitor and frowned. The coordinates had better come in soon or else he'd be damned if he could keep either Drax or Groot from doing something incredibly stupid.

"Your logic is sound, Quill, but I will only wait a few minutes longer." Drax sat back down and crossed his arms over his chest. "No job is more important than family."

"I am Groot." Again the adolescent mimicked Drax as he too resumed his seat on the ground.

Rocket clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head, "Well ain't we just a bunch of sentimentals."

The room felt like a fucking sauna, the air was so thick—made that way from the mass of bodies dancing to some of the most sophomoric music she'd ever heard. The pressure of this particular planet, however, being much lower than she was used to, Tommiah couldn't imagine trying to dance more than the dying fish flop. She was fighting pressure induced fatigue and felt like a soaking wet walrus swimming through glue most of the time. And it wasn't a great feeling—the self-comparison to a large-flippered marine mammal—when she was surrounded by men. Predominantly hot men, and not just the temperature kind. There were all sorts: tall and lithe, short and hunky, dark and light, rough around the edges and undoubtedly soft but inwardly mean, with alien appendages and without—including penile extensions in some of the strangest place…she'd sadly nearly made a man cum merely by stepping on his foot repeatedly when she had been dragged out onto the dance floor.

All sorts of specimens were represented here and they were all there for a reason: to find a mate. Only the men weren't doing the choosing, the few women who were making their rounds through the throngs were the ones doing the choosing. Searching out the "perfect guy" on this planet was apparently made possible by these strange get togethers mandated by the governing body, and the birth rate on this planet was predictable—with hordes of people sharing not only the same month but the same day. It was efficient and effective, Tommiah would give that to them, but it was also damnably uncomfortable too. In her efforts to get to her intended target she'd had to extract herself from over a dozen would-be suitors. She'd never had much time for dating in her life on Earth, always more intentional about things to be flippant with romance. Romance was annoying, sex felt good, don't confuse the two. So part of her found this atmosphere a welcome change to what had been more prominent in the culture she'd grown up in, long-dead by now. But the other part, a part only recently awakened like Cthulu from the sea, found it to be a bit…rough.

"You know you see them coming at you every night, and it's always the same deal for me." The ice in his glass clicked against each other as he took another drink. "They're strung out on pretension and they fall for you at first sight. I know their business before they even bother opening their mouths and you know, it's such a bore. It makes me damned restless because when you keep seeing the same old pedantry, hearing the same old sycophantic litany you just, you feel like you gotta get out of town. Go on the run, or something like that. Know what I mean?"

At his sudden question, Tommiah jerked her head before it fell out from where it'd been braced in her hand. She really hadn't meant to fall asleep—or at least doze off—while the man of some race she didn't remember continued to spout nonsense at her side. She'd been told that this man's race was considered the most attractive out of all known races in the galaxies, being the healthiest, longest living, most virile, and other such most and best. That was all well and good, if you could get over the fact that, as was obvious with this particular specimen of his kind, they also happened to be the most pompous fuckers in the galaxy as well. She'd had to listen to at least half an hour of shit like: "Oh I'm so great and I can't help it," and "oh woe is me everyone loves me and it is soo exhausting," and "you know having the body of Adonis can be so frustrating when women orgasm at the sight of you," and etc.

Somehow, she managed to feign a look of empathy, despite the fact that she hadn't been listening to a blessed bit of his complaining, and patted his arm, "Yeah everyone lets you down eventually and you've got to work harder and harder each day to find something that is truly fun and not monotonous." She raised her own glass in his direction in a salute. "When everyone craves your attention and you feel you can never say 'no' you realize that you no longer have true affections and the person everyone loves is no longer your authentic self." After taking a larger gulp that was socially polite she set her glass back onto the bar. "It is just a copy of the original and with everyone watching and demanding and expecting, that copy gets copied and that copy gets copied until when you look at yourself through someone else's eyes you don't even recognize yourself anymore. The needs of others have bled you dry and you're left with confusion and the impossible dreams of your youth, made all the more impossible because you realize that you did this to yourself and it is no one's fault but your own for being that damn perfect and wanted." She had not a fucking clue what it was she was saying. She was merely restating in her own words the nonsensical mumbo-jumbo that he'd said earlier when she'd been a wee bit more alert and on task than she was now.

"Yes!" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer, near tipping her off her bar stool. "How can you possibly understand this so well being as ugly as you are?" The pressure on her shoulders increased and he leaned closer to whisper, "I don't think I should let you get away after tonight. You're too good at this."

Tommiah felt unease in the pit of her stomach at his sudden change in tone of voice but she tried to play it off with a snort, "What do you mean too good at this?"

"Oh, I mean your efforts to draw what you want out of me. To profit from me for the others." Tommiah was turned on her stool to face him directly before she could manage to gasp out her surprise. He scooted forward until his knees pressed against the outsides of her own and his hands felt heavy atop her shoulders. He smirked at her expression, "Bang, bang, I shot you down, now didn't I? You didn't even have a chance to lie before your facial expression confirmed my suspicions." Although the music continued to play and here and there Tommiah could hear some of the revelers singing along with the nonsensical lyrics, it all sounded awfully trite in comparison to the laugh now coming from the man's throat. "Seasons can change, and time can pass, but baby some things just stay the same. Didn't you hear a word I said earlier?"

"To be honest," Tommiah shrugged her shoulders, "not a bit. I was too distracted."

The man traced the back of his fingertips against her cheek, his mannerisms more akin to what an owner would to do a pet than anything sexual, "Distracted by what?"

"Your funny looking face." Tommiah gestured to his whole body then. "You flash your bedroom eyes like a jumpin' jack at everyone and then play it pretty with a pat on the back to the poor souls who think they have a chance with you. Yeah, you jangle your jewels while you're shakin' your sassy ass in front of all the other pretty boys in here, driving them outta their heads with jealousy over how you got it, and they can't get it. It's beyond annoying to tell you the truth."

Instead of looking offended or angry, which is what Tommiah had been hoping to illicit because then at least he wouldn't be as much in control of himself as he now was, the man's smirk deepened and he began to stroke his hand down the length of her hair, from the crown of her head to the tips. It was creepy as hell and yet also relaxing—she loved her hair played with.

"I am in no hurry to end this conversation." He squeezed his legs against hers, reminding her that though she may feel free to leave, he most likely had some sort of weapon or physical superiority that would render her dead or seriously maimed if she tried to leave or resist. "Now please don't wait for an invitation from me to continue your insults. Don't hesitate in making them either; don't lose your head and just keep your cool and keep going. You have my full and complete support. But make sure you insult me slow and don't talk too fast, so I can thoroughly enjoy your creative attempts to put me to shame."

Tommiah looked over his shoulder. She frowned. There was no sign of a diversion coming any time soon. As was usual, she was on her own.

"Do you hear that?" The man tipped his head to the side in an overly dramatic way. Tommiah raised a single eyebrow at his buffoonery. "I feel some stormy weather moving in. I heard the thunder just now. You can almost feel the noise in your bones when it really gets going. Did you know that storms on this planet are notorious for ripping the roofs off buildings and sucking poor souls out to their doom like Armageddon?"

"What," it was Tommiah turn to tip her head to the side, eyeing the man with increased focus, "do you know about Armageddon?"

The man feigned an offended look and placed a hand over his heart, "Now do you really think Earth is the only planet in the galaxy that has a story of the end of all things?" He reached out and patted the top of her head. "No, my dear child, all planets and cultures have myths of how the good are rewarded and the bad get it, well, bad."

"And what would you be?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know why I'm still talking to you. I should be trying to get away from you, especially now that you know my angle. But I get the feeling that that's part of your game. You're watching every move I make and you're aware of the movements others are making too. I'm not sure how you know when to go out or when to stay put but I can tell that you get things done quickly either way. That you have an evil and devious mind and the power to charm the panties off men and women in order to keep them from knowing that about you."

The man inclined his head to her, as if to agree. He continued his silent petting. The revelers continued their revelry. And Tommiah still wanted to kill the DJ.

"I'll tell you honey, maybe we can see things the same here. Don't you think that what you're doing right now, who you're working with right now, is an absolute waste? Baby, it's all right now. The girls here are rocking the boys. The government is getting what they want. Your puppet master has left you to deal with me on your own and you know things are about to get wild. But if you suddenly decide not to be so stupid, and you are pretty stupid to be doing what you're doing and with whom you're doing it with, I could get you anything you wanted. I've got everything you could possibly want. You can't tell me you've had better offers…" He'd begun to twirl her hair around a few of his fingers.

Smiling from her head to her feet in an overly dramatic fan-girl fashion, Tommiah grasped the man's forearms and pulled herself towards him, "Now you're just trying to trick me into loving your perspective on things. To get me to fall into line with you. I'm not interested." She let go of his arms and sat back again. "So, let's stop pretending that there's going to be some happy ending here and let's not try to be friends either. If you weren't so ugly inside, maybe I could've been convinced to consider your offer."

"So petty!" He withdrew his hands and laughed. "Now what does that say about you then, hm? You see the necessity for profit, otherwise you wouldn't be here now. But you also don't like to play the game." He kept his hips and shoulders facing her but turned his head slightly to see where his until-then forgotten drink was. He finished it off before continuing. "I can't tell you how exciting it is for me to meet someone like you."

"Really? I assure you, more people probably think you're a prick, so I'm nothing special."

His smile grew bigger, "Oh but you are. And the most delightful thing is, you don't even know it. It's almost like there's no sign of life, true life peeking out of you. You certainly 'got it' but you don't get that you got, do you? Tell me, why do you fight your inner awesome factor?"

"Eh? I don't realize I'm doing it I guess." Tommiah also grabbed her glass and drank the last of its contents. Her head was beginning to hurt from talking in circles with the megalomaniac in front of her. "I guess I don't want to overwhelm everyone with how fuckin' awesome I am the way you do, cunt sucker that you are."

"My my, but you like four-letter words, don't you?"

"They're a quick and efficient way to describe how I feel." Tommiah drummed her fingers on top of the bar. "Are we ever going to wave bye-bye to this moment in time? I mean we've been talking in circles for much too long and my head is killing me and its hot as hades in here and if there is a storm coming I'd rather not be in such a crowded place."

Suddenly the man stood, "The best is yet to come, doll face."

Tommiah opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a spurt of energy shooting directly out of the man's fingers. She grabbed at her chest but then stopped when she realized the energy stream, was moving over her shoulder to someone behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw Gamora caught in the energy blast, her body convulsing painfully. The attack lasted only a moment but it was enough to knock the fighter unconscious, clear the bar area of spectators, and leave Tommiah and Mr. Fancy-fingers relatively alone on the balcony.

"Sorry. I've got itchy fingers sometimes. But then you already knew that about me." He held out his hand towards her and since she had nothing better to do, knew she had nowhere else to go, Tommiah humored him by placing her hand in his. "Come and take it from me, doll face, these people are subpar in comparison to what I can do for you."

"Let me guess," Tommiah further allowed him to pull her to her feet and stood chest-to-chest with him, "You'll be my king and I'll be your queen and together we'll beat everyone and nothing will be able to drive us away. Like a bunch of fucktarded heroes." She looked back over her shoulder to Gamora, feeling relief when the green goddess killer moaned. "Or better yet, villains."

"Well of course the line between what makes a hero and what makes a villain is made up of time and place." The man pushed her to the side ever so slightly before he extended a hand behind him, catching Mantis on the wrist, and jerking her in front of him. Instead of the man going down under Mantis's powers, the naïve alien gasped and fell back against Tommiah. She had to grab hold of the woman to keep her from cracking her head against the bar. As she slowly lowered her would-be work associate to the ground she looked up at the man through her eyelashes, "You must think me very mean for doing that."

"Gamora, I can understand. But Mantis? She's so cute." Tommiah extracted her arms from the woman and stood up again. "That was a low blow even for a jerk like you."

His laugh grated on her nerves, "It seems I'm going to have do many more low blows to get you to wake up."

"The hell you talking about?"

The glass overhead shattered and they both looked up to see Drax, Rocket, Quill, and Groot come flying into the room, their guns all trained on the man opposite her. Tommiah ducked down and crouched over the still unconscious Mantis, pulling her hands above her head when glass and various other bits of debris began to rain down on her from the rapid gun shots the Guardians fired overhead. When she looked up through her fingers, however, she was stunned to see the man hadn't moved—even though he'd obviously been shot multiple times—and instead of looking like he was in pain he had a manic grin on his face and was still laughing. That did not bode well for any of them.

"You think you can be the heroes of the hour and rescue your fair maidens?" He asked once the firing stopped and the Guardians were standing on the balcony across from them.

Rocket pulled out a bigger gun, "I'm done with rescues. Now I just want to kill your sorry ass."

"If you fire that particular weapon in here you're more likely to damage yourselves, perhaps kill some of your teammates, than harm me. You've already witnessed the fact that your smaller caliber weapons have no effect on me whatsoever," the man gave a sashaying twirl for them all to prove his point, "it would be a waste of time and ammunition to attempt to solve this with violence."

Quill tried to say something but his mask muffled his voice. Everyone look at him in confusion. His growl of frustration was clear before he clicked the side his head and his mask retracted, "I said, 'what do you want asshole?'"

"Nothing I couldn't already take. However, that's not nearly as much fun as this."

"Your definition of fun is much like my own, strange fingered man." Drax seemed to be grudgingly in accord with the man.

"I am Groot." The tree thing began to grow his arms as if to wrap around the man but with a few fancy finger-energy swipes the limbs Groot had grown were severed and the creature looked petulant.

"This is pointless." Rocket put the bigger gun on his shoulder and took aim. "Just say the word, Quill, and he's history."

"Wait!" Tommiah finally stood. "I think he wasn't bluffing earlier when he said if you fire that thing in here Mantis and I will get fried and even y'all might get knocked up a bit."

Rocket looked around his scope at her, "Then move out of the way."

"What d'you say I tell you what I want and we forego any more of this. For as much fun as its been, I'd much rather move on to another bit of fun than repeat more of the same ol' same ol."

Gamora let out a yell then, brandishing her weapons as she hurtled herself through the air towards the man. Again the man was unfazed, shooting an energy ball into Gamora's stomach that had the woman knocked clear across the room, smashing into the opposite wall, and falling to the first floor in a thundering crash. Since he hadn't killed any of them yet, Tommiah didn't think Gamora was dead. But she would be hella angry when she woke up again.

"Fine." Quill put his hand on Rocket's weapon to stay him. "What do you want?"

"Her." The man pointed to Tommiah.

Like an idiot she pointed to herself and mumbled, "Me?"

"Well that's settled." Rocket put the gun away. "You can have her. No skin off our teeth. Let's go." He clapped his hands. "Groot, go get Gamora. Drax," the pink-skinned fighter was already hulking his way to pick up Mantis.

"Excuse me a minute here." Tommiah held up her hand and everyone stopped moving. "Do I not get a say in this?"

Quill looked apologetic as he spoke, "The truth is, you're nothing to us but a middleman. You're just on loan-out from Stakar so if anyone should be rescuing you it should be him."

"We'd be lying if we said we wanted you stay with us." Rocket smirked at her. "But the truth is we're safer without you at this point. And who knows, maybe Stakar will track you down and mount a rescue mission." Rocket began to giggle, amused with the idea because that was a distinct impossibility.

Stakar had "loaned" her out to the Guardians only because Peter had beat him in a card game and they'd wanted one of Stakar's female crew members to help them on this job—a supposedly easy intel job that would turn a good profit and they'd promised a small share for her work. Since she'd been the most recent acquisition, not handed over to the Collector for still unknown reasons, it'd been decided that she needed to prove her Ravager mettle—not something she personally felt inclined to do but whatevs—and was also the most expendable considering she was the most recent crew member. It'd been understood that if the Guardians didn't return with her but with the faction of the share they'd promised Stakar, there'd be no retribution. But if they did return with her and no share or returned without her and no share, there would be consequences.

"So it's settled then?" The man rubbed his hands together in delight. "I get this one, and you all leave."

"Hold up a minute." Quill held up his hand and for a brief second Tommiah thought he was having second thoughts about abandoning her. "Can we at least get the coordinates for the cache? Because it seems to me that you don't really need it and since you're getting her without a fuss, it would be a fair trade."

"Some heroes you are." Tommiah shook her head and leaned against the bar behind her. "It's a crying shame I never got a chance to show you all just how much I enjoyed being a part of your team, albeit briefly."

The man reached out and patted her shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry my dear, you'll be able to. My intention is not to kill you but-" He looked to see that Quill and Rocket hadn't moved, and Drax was still crouched next to Mantis. "I believe our conversation would be best heard just by us." He moved towards Quill, holding out his hand. "If you'd give me your monitor there, I'll give you the coordinates."

Rocket looked to Quill and after a moment Quill shrugged and unstrapped the monitor. As he handed it over, Groot climbed back up the balcony, a still unconscious Gamora clutched in his limbs. Drax also stood up and moved to stand with his friends. The man finished punching in the codes and tossed the monitor back. He rubbed his hands together and looked around at the mostly ruined building. The revelers had long since fled; even the DJ had abandoned his post—either that or one of the Guardians had put him out of his misery.

"I believe that concludes our business?"

Quill looked at the monitor then back to Tommiah. She could see only a sliver of guilt twirl its way through his gaze but he nodded to the gleeful man at her side. "Yup. That about does it." The other Guardians began to fly away through the ruined ceiling but Quill hesitated, "Take care of yourself."

Tommiah grunted at his retreating back and waited until she was thoroughly alone with the creeper before she spoke again, "So, I don't even know your name."

"It is quite an easy name," the man turned to her and she felt confused and a bit alarmed when his body morphed before her eyes into a completely different visage, "I don't need anything fancy to convey my magnanimous nature."

"But you do need a warning for your perfidious retardedness."

He laughed again and snapped his fingers. Abruptly they were no longer in the ruined building. Tommiah felt her stomach roll at the sudden pressure change and weightlessness of floating in space. And they were in space. Without any helmets or space suits. Tommiah immediately tried to hold her breath but stopped halfway, realizing belatedly that she could breathe in normally. The man laughed again, not floating around like a swimming space snake as she was, but instead sitting with his legs crossed if lazing in an arm chair. In fact, he snapped his fingers and an armchair did appear beneath him. Tommiah could only blink at him.

"You're so much more fun than your aunt. And she was, is, quite the lady."

Tommiah shifted her body around until she was hovering a bit more in control and could at least look at him directly, "My aunt? Who the hell are you?"

"Your cousin will be excited to meet you too. He's been a bit stressed lately so I think you're the perfect present to help with that."

"Cousin?" Tommiah swam her way over to the man and gripped the armrests, pulling her face close to his. "Stop speaking in vague riddles and answer the damn question. Who ARE you?"

The man's lips turned upward in a sadistic smile, "Why I thought the answer was apparent: I am Q."

~~~~~~~

Every time that he looked in the mirror he could see the lines on his face were getting clearer. He'd grown so used to seeing them now, at dusk and dawn—the only times he bothered looking at his reflection—that he couldn't remember a time before their existence. They were a visual reminder of the past he'd lived and the present he currently took part in. Isn't that the way though, your body maps out the heights and depths of your decisions and in some fashion, that's how everybody pays their dues in life. They take it out on their body, their health, spending it away as if it weren't a precious commodity to be carefully guarded, but instead let it slip through their fingers without bothering to wonder where it comes from and what happens when it goes.

Tipping his head upward and to the left, he traced a single digit along a scar on the side of his neck. He grunted before he tipped his head to the other side and marked other scars along his cheeks and then down towards his chest. It seemed like over half his life had been written in violence: the pages of history, his skin. He'd lived and learned, acting both the part of fool and learned man, and it all displayed itself upon his body. Unapologetic. And staring at his naked flesh now, so many things came back to him that, if he gave into it, he knew he could continue to stand useless like a newborn babe.

But he wasn't inclined to do that. Not today. Maybe tomorrow, when the spirits would take him away. Until that time, however, he'd keep on as he was: taking the good with the bad, the laughter with the tears—though he wasn't about to let anyone know about the tears. He'd take his losses with his wins, understanding that the latter was only sweeter because of the former. And he'd keep on keeping on until there was nothing to keep on towards.

"Cap'n?"

Yondu kept his eyes on his own reflection, reaching out to press the com link on the panel by the mirror. "Go ahead."

"Rumors are spreadin' 'round bout why we're waiting offsides this here planet." Kraglin sounded concerned and Yondu smirked at the sound.

"Yeah," he patted away the last of the shaving cream, "what you want me to do about a bunch of naggy ninnies?"

There was some rustling and Yondu could only assume Kraglin was trying to make their conversation more private, despite the fact that he was undoubtedly calling from the bridge. "You know what I'm talkin' about, cap'n. I'm just sayin' let me know what you want me to do. Do you wanna order a crew down to the planet to that place on the range? Or-"

"I want you to stop naggin' me and let me be the captain here." He threw down the towel he'd been twisting in his hands. "Get a small crew of your most trusted guys together and meet me in the shuttle bay. Send two other crews out to the range to see what they can scrounge up by way of profit through some sales and acquisition."

He cut the com link before he could confirmation from Kraglin. He trusted the man to do his job. His first mate may come across as slim and weak but he could certainly bang an enticing gong and get the untamed youth of their crew into line using whatever cloak full of eagles he had hidden tight around his body. Ever since the Taserface fiasco, Kraglin had earned himself a diamond star halo and that was plain truth, not that Yondu would ever tell him. No point in getting sweet on the man. It'd leave them both feeling sickly.

Yondu tossed his used towel over his shoulder into the corner of towering laundry yet to be done. When it landed, it caused a slight avalanche of material and Yondu watched in morbid amusement as the whole tower swayed and shifted before settling again. He grunted and was just about to turn away when his eyes caught sight of a certain shirt through the mirror's reflection. Recognizing what it was, and immediately remembering who last wore it, Yondu felt his stomach roll in a most unnecessary fashion. Indigestion. It had to be indigestion from the crap lunch they'd had.

Instead of shrugging off the feeling and leaving, as he'd intended, Yondu surprised himself by immediately turning around and tugging the shirt out of the pile. Oh he had indigestion pretty good it seemed, because that same uncomfortable feeling was back and it was real and shining through like a damned nuisance. Like a lonely man with the blues he doubted his own sanity as he did it, pressing the shirt against his face and inhaling. At first, he could only detect the pungent stench of his own days old sweat and body fluids but then, perhaps driven by an insane and foolish nostalgia for something (someone) he had no business missing, he thought he could smell her.

Almost as soon as he fooled himself into thinking he could smell her, Yondu growled and threw the shirt back into the pile and stalked into his room. He had no time for frilly stupidity. There was work to be done. She'd understood that when he'd handed her off to Stakar and though they hadn't known each other long he took her lack of animosity towards him at that time at face value. She seemed the type to make the best of a situation and it was only his own foolish pride to think that she'd be miserable missing him now—even if it was because of him that she wasn't with him anymore.

Yondu continued his growling and stomping around as he dressed. His mind was spinning its wheels in a no-good way and by the time he met up with Kraglin and the few other blokes he'd scavenged up for their separate mission, Yondu was in a snit. He wasn't in the mood to talk or explain things and usually Kraglin was accepting of Yondu's lack of communication but perhaps due to the presence of some of the eager newbies, Kraglin broke silence a few minutes out from the ship.

"Where are we going, cap'n?"

Yondu kept his eyes forward as he maneuvered their smaller pod craft through the debris field surrounding the planet. "It's been called many things but for us we'll call it Paradise City."

"What?" Kraglin sounded both confused and surprised.

"It's where the grass is green and the girls are pretty." Yondu smirked at his first mate, enjoying the poor man's confusion as it distracted him away from his earlier angst.

"Are we going to get some grass or a few girls?"

"Do you think either grass or girls are going to fetch us a big enough profit to get us something to eat?"

Kraglin blinked, tipped his head to the side, then answered, "Um…so long as we don't do no more charity cases."

"What do you mean 'charity cases'?" Yondu gripped the steering wheel tighter, willing the conversation to end and yet morbidly curious as to where it could go.

"Oh look!" Kraglin seemed inclined towards ending the conversation as he pointed to the first bit of civilization that'd begun to form on the horizon of their viewing screen after they'd entered atmosphere. "It's the end of the line. We must have arrived." Kraglin began to reach for the copilot controls to ready the ship for arrival.

"Kraglin." Yondu flipped full control to his side and narrowed his eyes at his first mate.

Kraglin sighed, glanced over his shoulder at the other Ravagers to make sure they were sufficiently distracted with readying their gear back towards the cargo bay doors before he responded. "Cap'n, you gotta admit that you're a hard case that's tough to beat. You push everyone to get from rags to riches and you're always seeking profit no matter what the gambling odds. It's like a game to you and we all follow you for those reasons. But you almost treat it like a capital crime."

"Treat what like a crime?"

"Enjoying yourself. Enjoying the rewards of our profit."

Yondu frowned and pointed to one of his most recent shiny purchases swaying back and forth on the dashboard. "I bought that with cash and my credit's good. Things like that ain't no crime and I think I tell you boys to enjoy yourselfs quite often whenever we hit up them pleasure planets." Kraglin shook his head. "And you and I both know takin' on Quill was no charity case. That was just the right damn thing to do."

Kraglin pinched the bridge of his nose. "This ain't got nothin' to do with Quill." He looked to the ceiling of the pod as if it offered answers to his unspoken prayers. "I never knew there'd come a day, when I'd be sayin' this to you," Kraglin ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath, "But I can see right through ya, cap'n, and some of the others can read you well too. You're disjointed right now but you just gotta free your mind and the rest will follow. So they say."

"Don't waste my time, Kraglin. You rang my buy before with all your shit mumbo jumbo talk when I was drunk. Now I've made up my mind to make sure you spit out your point before you wrap my brain up in circles within spirals and wheels within wheels."

Kraglin nodded and spoke carefully, "It don't make you a weaker man, cap'n. And you can try to dispute me on this but that'd just make you shallow and I know you ain't shallow." Yondu raised an eyebrow and waved his hand in the air, an attempt to move his first mate along verbally. "You know to fall in love and shit like that."

"The fuck you talkin' about Kraglin?" Yondu drew back as if his first mate had struck him.

"I tried to give you consolation about it before, when you know…she…left ya. Because I could see how she'd turned your world upside down and-"

Yondu began to laugh, "You've put entirely too much thought and romantic sentimentality into a fantastical imaginary situation." He snapped his fingers to get the attention of the other Ravagers, "We hit the road in five. You don't say nothing or do nothing without my say, got it?" They nodded, grinning at the prospect of violence. Yondu looked back to Kraglin and chuckled again, "I think you've been listening to too much of Quill's music. It's done made you soft in the head. Don't you know what kind of man I am? Love." Yondu continued to laugh even as they landed and cheerfully walked into the organized chaos that was Paradise City.

He hadn't a fucking clue that his laissez-faire response to Kraglin would soon be challenged with the reappearance of said "she."

~~~~~~

She had to admit that skydiving naked from a glider in the thermosphere may not have been the best idea. Reasons for nudity still escaped her—it'd been explained to her that frequencies or radars or some shit like that would have more trouble tracking her if she was naked. In any case, perverted desires to see a naked woman hurtling to her—perhaps—death as she was shot like a rocket from near outer space aside, the jump itself had been nerve wracking. Yes, she now understood her unique powers and abilities as a somewhat Celestial—they'd been so lovingly pounded into her by Q and then also by her cousin Caiden when she'd finally met him in an alternate reality—but she was still 100% human in mindset and knowing she had the ability to save herself from going splat versus actually putting herself into the position to test that knowledge were two completely different ballgames. She was not a machine or superman and had fears to overcome.

Of course, she hadn't been given the chance to reconsider the plan. Rocket had pressed the button for the bottom of the glider to open, letting her free fall through the cold, dark air, before she'd been able to muster up more protest than, "Bastards!" But after the first few milliseconds of free falling, she'd felt the part of her soul that'd been dormant ever since she'd first woken up—the adrenaline junkie that'd helped her survive training—she'd felt it come alive, if even kick into overdrive, and she'd laughed the majority of the rest of the way down. In fact, she'd loved every minute of it.

Aiming her body and the angle of her drop had been a pain in the ass but she'd managed to land in the magnetically supported net Rocket had assured and reassured her Mantis, Gamora, and Drax had set up a few hours prior. Then after she'd been caught in the net, a few automatic dial turns and switch throws and the net had retracted and she'd been dropped unceremoniously into a lake in the wild, on the outskirts of a place called Paradise City—a rundown hellhole of a town who's nomenclature did not match it in any fashion. Thankfully the bag Rocket had told her would be waiting for her, with clothes and other essential items for the job, had been easy enough to find at the bottom of the lake—almost directly below where the net had initially dropped her. Then once she'd dressed in the black, ridiculously tight leotard Peter had arranged for her—complete with absolutely useless stiletto high heeled thigh-high boots and fishnet stockings—and had strapped on her weapons—supplied by a more work-minded Rocket—at the lake's edge she'd used the aerial antenna Rocket had supplied to let him know she was in position.

But that had been where things had stopped going according to plan. By the time she'd arrived at the rendezvous point, dirty and sweaty and feeling like the teeth of a Hydra were scratching at what skin was exposed to the sand that was whipping around in the wind, she'd been more than eager for things to keep on the upward swing. But with her feet reminding her that these boots were not made for walking, and the leotard chafing in areas that should only be treated with upmost care, Tommiah got to also witness Captain America, aka Peter Quill, get his ass handed to him by the mafiasso they'd been trying to double-cross in the city.

Tommiah would be lying if she said she hadn't gotten a little pleasure out of seeing the occurrence from her position, still hidden and out of danger. She could've gotten popcorn and a drink and gladly relaxed to watch the show in all honesty. She'd gotten further pleasure out of seeing Drax get kicked around like an unwanted court jester back in the medieval period on Earth. And Gamora was struggling under the attacks of at least two dozen guys, and all with fuckly large guns firing in her direction. If she could've seen Rocket also get the crap beat out of him she'd feel avenged a bit for when they'd left her—though in reality it'd been all in their favor that they'd abandoned her to Q. Now she was a better asset to have on a team and she didn't have to answer to people like Stakar or anyone else. She was her own boss and could very easily destroy anyone who said otherwise—even a planet that said otherwise—if she could manage to harness her powers long enough. Being a motherfucking quarter celestial had its perks and its drawbacks. She'd yet to experience the drawbacks and was thoroughly enjoying the perks.

When the mafia shitfaces had begun to beat on Mantis though, Tommiah had had to weigh her options. She could expose her position and completely throw in the towel of their current job by helping Mantis out. Or she could let things play out as they were, trusting that Rocket would figure out somewhere to extract his teammates, and she could continue on to the agreed upon goal. Tommiah wasn't blind to the pain the Guardians were going through but in a way if she stepped in to help them it would belittle the pain they'd already gone through and make it pointless unless they succeeded in the job. And so, she'd turned a blind eye to their fight and had moved on, not looking back. She hadn't been a complete bitch though, and had caused a big enough diversion with an exploding building to allow the Guardians some recoup time before the next attack.

She'd managed to infiltrate the underground network of tunnels that led to the jackpot they were looking for (a horde of renewable energy powerpacks that were worth a shitload of credits) but then she'd gotten cocky with her newfound abilities and had underestimated the fact that she could still be taken by surprise. That was when she'd been knocked unconscious by some ugly toad looking thing. When she'd woken up she'd found herself strapped to a singular chair in a circular chamber with multiple fan vents in the ceiling and floors. At first she'd been alone in the murky and muggy darkness, the stench of sewers and body odor ripe (she knew some of it came from herself but much of it had to have been coming from the ventilation system all around her). Her head hurt, and her body as well, and so she'd been too distracted by the pain and fuzzy brain waves to muster up her powers just yet.

But then the toad thing from before had lumbered into the light, accompanied by two more humanoid looking creatures (though they were still ugly as hell). And that had been when the true amusement of the day had begun. One creature looked more impressive that the other two, with an old fedora strategically dipped over one eye, an apricot colored scarf tossed over his shoulder, and his outfit more fitting for a day on the yacht than in this hellhole of a place.

"My, don't you smell sweet and look so pretty wearing those clothes. Just like a prostitute." Fedora-wearing creature spoke up, he was pink with blue hair and reminded her of bubble gum (his skin was rather bubbly). "Forgive me if I don't buy into what you're selling though. It doesn't mean you're not a fine specimen of your race and color, I just don't have much of an appetite for whores who try to steal from me."

Tommiah rolled her neck, wincing at the series of cracks that resounded in the room, before offering the creature a toothy smile, "It's okay. I don't think you could afford me."

The toad creature let out a series of ribbits and bubble gum guy glared at him, and the other creature (a fish looking thing with grey scales) who'd also let out a few chuckles. Once his cronies had been effectively silenced, bubble gum turned his attention back to Tommiah. His bubbly lips turned upward in a Cheshire grin, "Your friends have left you for dead."

"Oh," Tommiah feigned a look of sadness before snorting, "But I wouldn't call them my friends. They've made a habit of abandoning me it seems."

"Then you're all that much more a fool for falling in with them again." Bubble gum began to circle around her chair, trying his best to sound ominous but she couldn't get past the idea that maybe he tasted like cotton candy. "How do you like being strapped in the chair of my city's gas chamber?"

That explained the vents both above and below her. Tommiah shifted in her chair to study it more closely, testing her bonds, then returned her smiling gaze to bubble gum, "I think it's a lovely chair. Though I must admit that your city leaves much to be desired. The name certainly does leave one disappointed."

Toad giggled again and this time fishy guy kicked him, hard, sending toad careening backwards and slamming against the wall. He wasn't dead, if his heavy breathing (still quite audible in the room) was any indication. Bubble gum took out what looked to be a pipe as well as a case of slimy looking worm creatures. He placed one creature into the pipe then lit a fire beneath. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nose. "Do you know why you're here?" he asked between puffs.

"Honestly," Tommiah blinked away a sudden headache, "I can't remember. But you're the one who caught me and I'm sure you'll tell me the reasons why you believe I'm here."

Bubble gum got closer and one whiff of his breath and the BO coming off his skin was evidence enough that there was no way he could taste like cotton candy, "I think you and your friends took on a job from an old colleague of mine to try to get vivanium power packs from me."

"Is that so?" Tommiah made her best efforts to keep from laughing and somehow managed to put on a southern belle accent. "Why I do declare Mister Bubble Yum this must be some great misunderstanding because I came here to sightsee. Which I hear is fine if you got the time but I might be mistaken in that regard." She made a tsking sound. "You're so vain to think that this is all about you.

Bubble gum snapped his fingers and both toady and fishy sprung into action, moving towards some levers on the wall, "Enough! I think it's time for you to experience some of what this chamber has to offer." He held his hand out behind his back and toady placed a gas mask in his hand. "I can't wait to hear you beg. And maybe you'll change your mind about telling me the real reason why you're here."

"Oooh! This should be fun." Tommiah shifted in her chair again, testing the integrity of both chair and bonds.

Toady and fishy put their masks on and then Tommiah heard a distant clicking and whirling of gears coming to life. Soon after the first puffs of gas began to leak out of the vents, coming out faster and in thicker clouds as the seconds ticked by and the machines whirled more ably to life. She didn't know what sort of gas this was but if the end goal of exposing her to it was merely to get her to talk then it wasn't likely lethal. Or maybe it was, with longer exposure. Could be blinding or some other form of physically disabling. She knew she could hold her breath a long time, had had to do so in her training prior to her mission, and then the jump through the thermosphere had also proved to her that she could survive things most humans couldn't. But she wasn't looking forward to putting her newfound abilities to the test with toxic gas.

Her fears, however, were relieved when she recognized the pungent stench of methane, "Have mercy but did you know this stuff smells like shit?" She twisted her head from side to side in her efforts to get away from the smell.

"We aren't interested in creating sweet-smelling poison gas." The fish creature spoke, his voice raspy either from the mask or nature or both.

Tommiah snorted, "Maybe you should. If it smells good people will stick around and inhale more of it whereas when it smells this shitty they'll run away and escape. Maybe watching me struggle here and now will change your minds, eh?"

She watched the threesome exchange glances, as if they'd never thought of that before; what idiots. Her head began to feel fuzzy again, her eyes now stung with something thicker than tears, and she felt blood begin to leak out of her nose. Yeah, this was more than just methane gas that was certain. She coughed and again shook her head in a vain effort to clear her head. Despite the nuisance this was causing to her already fatigued body, she hadn't quite lost her snark and threw a cheerful look towards the three idiot-teers.

"I have to tell you that when I get high I prefer to get high on speed. It is like the top fuel for my brain. I get so much done. It kickstarts my heart into overdrive and I just ping from wall to wall being efficient as fuck." She coughed and this time bloody phlegm came out of her mouth and landed on her lap. That wasn't a good sign.

Bubble gum stepped closer, "You know it doesn't have to be this way."

"What way?" She coughed again and this time she spat out the mouthful of phlegm onto the floor near Bubble gum's feet. "I think this is a fantastic way to win friends and influence people. In fact, I never want to get myself free because I'm so caught up in the wonder of it all."

"You just need to tell us the right and then the light of truth can come shining through and we can ease your worried mind." Bubble gum was trying to sound poetic and charming at the same time and was failing at both, especially with his voice muffled by the gas mask. "You've been caught up in a damned mess, little girl. Those Guardians couldn't resist playing around with your life, could they?" Her ears began to ring and his voice was growing more difficult to understand, but her obvious discomfort/dying self didn't deter him from his pontification, "Even though no two beings in this wide universe are ever the same. Or so I've been told." He glanced over his shoulder to toady and fishy and they grunted their agreement.

Tommiah grunted to clear her throat, "Call me naïve but the Guardians don't strike me as the type to turn and walk away from a profit."

"What do you mean?"

"You're basically giving away the things you're trying to protect."

Bubble gum seized her shoulders and shook her, "What are you talking about?"

"No need to ask me twice," Tommiah drew back her weary head and blinked, not that it did any good, her vision was getting worse and worse, "Meaning, you're the one who caught me and you're a trio of pretty pears sitting here watching me slowly die. But have you stopped to ask yourself, 'who's watching my power packs?'"

Bubble gum let go of her shoulders and barked something at toady and fishy and then the threesome promptly disappeared from the room. Though left in blessed peace, Tommiah attempted to wiggle around in her chair but still couldn't break free. In fact, on her second attempt, she managed to tip her chair completely sideways and landed painfully against the metal floor. What she wouldn't give to be able to walk away from this, even if it was in these damned stiletto shoes.

There was a static whirring and then the listening device in her ear crackled to life and the panting voice of Quill made her headache all the worse, "Where are you?"

"Hell."

More heavy breathing (did this guy ever not breathe hard), "You were supposed to meet us almost an hour ago, now it's a quarter to two and the total eclipse of the sun is almost done. We're going to lose our cover soon."

"Yeah," Tommiah shifted around amidst the dense gas, closing her eyes against the sting it left, "I'm just lying around lookin' like a bloody clown in this getup you gave me to work in."

Quill had the audacity to laugh, "Wish I could've seen your face when you found it."

"I won't be as angry 'bout the hell you put me through today, Quill, and I'll even say forget about it, if you get off your ass and come get me." Tommiah heaved then, vomiting out the contents of meals she'd eaten years ago (or so it felt).

"You don't sound so good. Why don't you save yourself with those badass powers you've got now?"

Tommiah tried to bounce her body away from the pool of vomit, "No shit Sherlock and I can't seem to concentrate enough to latch onto my powers. I'm currently being gassed to death in the city's central gas chamber. Or at least that's what Bubble Gum said."

"Bubble Gum?"

"I'll explain later. Now will you come get me?"

There was some more crackling and she heard Quill talking into another device, his voice sounding both surprised as well as cautious, then he was speaking directly in her ear again, "Jim Dandy to the rescue! Just hold tight and someone will be there to get you."

Tommiah didn't have a chance to respond. The door to the chamber imploded, nearly smacking into her, and through the smoke and gas two gas-mask covered figures stepped through. Tommiah smiled, in spite of the vomit and blood on her face, in spite of the burning in her lungs and the fog in her brain. She'd recognize that cocky swagger and that hip-looking trench coat anywhere. In truth, Yondu had plagued her every night and day in some fashion. He'd never left her, though he'd left her (if that made some sort of poetic sense) and she'd had a series of ridiculous dreams where he'd been some underworld spy and she'd been a police officer sent to arrest him but then they'd ended up going on the lam together; or he'd been an unruly student and she'd had to hold him in after school detention but then he'd tried to seduce her…and yes her brain as royally fucked up.

"Looks like I missed a great party." Though his words were sarcastic, from the way he immediately moved to her chair and began to cut her loose, Tommiah got the feeling that he was more concerned than he let on. "They certainly know how to treat a lady right around here, don't they?"

The other figure revealed himself to be Kraglin, taking off his gas mask after he'd pressed a lever on the wall that'd sucked the remaining gas and smoke out of the room, "Uh-huh, sure do. Cap'n." His eyes traveled over Tommiah's form, wobbly in Yondu's arms as he pulled her to her feet. "No offense but you look like shit, lady."

Tommiah snorted, "I feel like it too." Her head swerved to look at Yondu. "So you're Jim Dandy eh?"

"Who?" Yondu tipped his head to the side. "Did Quill call me that?" Tommiah nodded. "I thought I was Mary Poppins."

"What?" Tommiah laughed. "He called you Mary Poppins."

"Yeah. Ain't that a good thing?" He narrowed his eyes and Tommiah hadn't the heart to break the truth to him that yeah it could be good but that he'd been compared to an anal-retentive nanny from the 19th century.

"As good as clouds in your morning coffee." Tommiah tried to move forward on her own but stepped into one of the vents and broke off a heel, falling back into Yondu's arms. "Well Jim Dandy, you seem like the kind of guy who would waste no time to put a lady on a getaway horse. So how are we getting out of here? Plane? Jet? Submarine?"

Yondu smirked and pulled one of her arms over his shoulders, "For now by foot but after that we might have a few mermaids help us out."

Kraglin chuckled while Tommiah looked between them in confusion. The last of her pride leaked away only a few yards down the tunnels, when her bowels emptied themselves. It was about that time when Bubble Gum and co. returned and began to fire at them. But Yondu further secured her heart when he merely grunted, pulled her fully into his arms bridal style, and took off running down the corridor as if he did this kind of thing every tea time. Tommiah held on tight. My hero… Then she passed out.

~~~~~

Tommiah glanced up at Drax and smirked at his obvious discomfort, "Why are you letting me drink water from your cup? Contagious as you seem to think I am?"

"I can get a new cup when we get back to the ship. You have need of water right now and my cup was the only one available." He tilted his head towards the sun and away from Tommiah, "And I do not think you are contagious. I think you smell like fecal matter and vomit and do not wish to procure any of your smell upon myself."

"My cup runneth over with your platitudes and grace, Drax." Tommiah wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. "But no reason to worry. You can turn your head now, I'll go to the other side of camp and you won't have to worry about my stench anymore." On shaky legs and bare feet—she'd thrown what was left of the boots at Quill's head when they'd first met up—she stumbled her way across the semi-circular area surrounded by stones on the edge of a small oasis that they called their camp. When she heard Drax's heavy breathing directly behind her she looked over her shoulder, "Why are you following me?"

"You are in need of assistance and though I am not in favor of the situation, until the others return I am the only one available to assist you." Though his words were kind, in their own fashion, his face was still grimacing at her appearance and smell.

It was true, about it just being her and Drax at the camp. Groot and Rocket had gone with Mantis to another town, not Paradise City, to retrieve some supplies while Quill, Gamora, Yondu, and Kraglin had disappeared to who knows where to argue about the profits of the job. Yondu was "treacherously" insisting upon ransom—her ransom—in order to get a share of the profits from Quill and the others for those dang blasted power packs. It had been alluded to her, the idea that Yondu would forcibly take her if Quill didn't agree to the ransom, but that had only made her laugh. One) she liked the idea of hanging out with Yondu again so there would be no forcing and 2) she was a fucking quarter Celestial and ain't no one MADE her do anything—the previous poisoning aside. It had made Quill laugh too because none of them had bothered to tell Yondu, yet, about her semi-Celestial nature. Poor Yondu wouldn't have had any reason to assume she had such powers considering he'd been the one to cut her free and carry her ass outta the sewers.

Poor, poor Yondu. After they'd rendezvoused with the others some hours before—she'd woken up just prior to that-he'd unceremoniously dumped her onto the ground near the Guardian's supplies and had promptly shed his coat and shirt and had stomped off to clean her shit off him, as he'd romantically declared to them all. Rocket had laughed, no surprise there, while Quill had had a bit of decency to look a little sorry for having made her wear this crap outfit for their mission.

Blinking at Drax as she came back from her thoughts Tommiah smirked, "No need to scream out your chivalrous nature, Drax."

"I do not recall screaming in any manner." Drax shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another as he watched Tommiah lower herself onto the ground. It amazed her that sarcasm still flew over his head as high as it did; he'd been in the company of Rocket and Quill long enough, one would think that at least some concept of sarcasm would've sunk in by now.

"No," Tommiah pointed to the pile of supplies, "you didn't scream. Would you be a doll and get me that rag sticking out of Quill's bag? I've a mind to clean up a bit."

Beside her was a small spring, where Drax had earlier retrieved the water for her to drink. She wanted more than anything to strip naked and roll herself into the cool water. But she would have to make do with a cup bath for now.

Drag grunted on his way over to the bag, "Doing this for you will not make me a doll."

Some clouds blessedly covered the hot sun, momentarily, and Tommiah sighed again before calling out to Drax, "While you're at it, would you mind looking around to see if he has anything I might be able to use to get out of this nasty outfit?"

Drax proceeded to hold up every item inside Quill's bag until Tommiah just told him to give her something he would most likely use. She ended up with Quill's jacket, nothing else could be found to suffice as underwear or pants. Well, she'd just have to watch how she sat until she could get her clothes back.

"All right Drax, just to be absolutely clear: I'm about to get thoroughly naked and then thoroughly wet. You have a choice," Drax was beginning to look panicked as she spoke, her voice deadpan and her face as serious as the grave, "You can stay here and watch me clean," there was no need to use innuendo with Drax, he didn't need it to look sick to his stomach, "or you can go find the others and hang out with them until they're ready to come back."

Drax beat a hasty retreat without protest and Tommiah laughed to herself, congratulating her acting skills—it'd been so hard to keep a straight face while watching Drax's discomfort. It took some fancy and groan-inducing movements to shed off the crusted, plastered-to-her-skin clothing, but eventually she was naked—having placed the dirty laundry under her bum otherwise she'd be sitting on a hot rock—and began to pour the water over her head.

She hummed to herself as she scrubbed and rubbed away the filth, "Kick 'em when they're up

Kick 'em when they're down," she wasn't sure why the song came to her head but then again in recent weeks she wasn't sure if logic was used often for many of her decisions, "Kick 'em all around..."

Tommiah had just finished the last of her washing—mentally dancing and singing the Hallelujah chorus for how completely better she felt—but had yet to put on the coat, when Kraglin's dirty blonde head rounded into view. He let out a high-pitched squeak and abruptly turned back around and would've gone back in the direction he'd come from but Tommiah's voice stopped him. She had a mischievous gleam in her eye as she watched him shuffle backwards, closer so she didn't have to yell as she spoke to him. It was most interesting, watching a hardened Ravager act like a flighty teenager.

"So, my gun-for-hire friend, are you going to tell me how you and Yondu ended up on the same planet as us or am I going to have to guess?"

Kraglin scratched his head, "We was after the same thing as y'all I reckon. The word was out about them and when something like that is said then it's everybody's pie to dig into with their dirty fingers."

Tommiah watched his body language carefully as she put on Quill's coat and zipped it up. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "You can't get the drop on me anymore Kraglin." Something in the quality of her voice had the man turning his head, then his whole body, when he saw that she was mostly decent. "When it's all said and done, I know your head of operations well enough to expect a few lies and secrets to be told before the truth of what's really going on is known." She winced as she stood up, tossing the dirty laundry onto the ground before dipping the cup back into the spring and dumping its contents on the rock, marginally cooling it off so she could sit back down. "Do you have a running bet with the boys back on the ship for how long you can keep the truth from me or something?"

"No, there ain't nothin' like that goin' on." Kraglin rubbed the back of his head, his gaze wandering around the oasis as if he was afraid to look at her directly. "So how did you get away from Stakar?" His wandering eyes finally came back to her and though his body language told her he was umcomfortable and skittish, Tommiah could see a strong discerning glint in his gaze.

She smiled, "I was on loan-out when it came to my attention that I'm more skillful than expected within certain avenues of life. So my loan-out became permanent. As far I know, there's no hard feelings between myself and Stakar. And I am fairly certain he won't be all fired up to come track me down." She smirked. "Did you miss me, is that what you're saying?"

"Now I never much spent time with you on board, so I can't say as that I missed you in particular." His honesty surprised her. Tommiah balanced her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. "But I gotta say that every street he's walked on since you left…well it's like he's left stains of his suppression on the ground."

"Pardon?"

"All these jobs we've been doing, and all the profit we've been getting, it ain't been enough for him ya know? He's been acting like he's chasing a ghost, following after one he didn't e'en know he'd want 'round." Kraglin further surprised her by coming up to sit on the small bit of rock left over beside her. She resisted the urge to scoot away, afraid that her movements would break his "confession" mode. "I mean, you don't really wanna know just how far he's gone. You should leave well enough alone." Kraglin looked away, then expectantly glanced at her over his shoulder. When she just blinked at him, he sighed and shook his head, kicking at the dirt at his feet. "Let him have his dirty little secrets."

It took her befuddled moment to realize that Kraglin WANTED her to dig the truth out of him. He'd just maneuvered himself, conversationally speaking, into a position that if Yondu growled at him later about spilling whatever beans he had locked away, that Kraglin could honestly say that he'd told her not to ask and had "tried" to keep it to himself. What a twerpish, and ingenious, move! Tommiah choked back her laugh and her smile. She'd play along, just to soothe Kraglin's manly pride.

"I will cut you down to size, Kraglin, unless you tell me exactly what I want to know."

Kraglin looked at her again and snorted, "How do you expect to do that? You still look like shit." His eyes got big and he blushed, "No offense ma'am."

"None taken if it's the truth," Tommiah leaned forward, "So Yondu's been a haunted man ever since I left, eh? He's not been finding pleasure in his gain?" She smiled. "Sounds like some big shot who can't get what he wants because he wouldn't acknowledge what it was he wanted."

"Now, I never said nothing like that." Kraglin looked like he was about to stand and move away, taking the truth with him, so Tommiah swung herself around until she was straddling his hips, legs wrapping around his waist and hands looped firmly around his neck. Kraglin looked both surprised and terrified while Tommiah could only smile at her triumph.

"Kraglin." Tommiah tightened her grip on his hips in response to his nervous shifting. "I will not move from this spot until you answer me, yes or no, a few questions." Kraglin again tried shifting and pushing at her body but she tightened her hold and pulled her face closer, causing him to tip his awkwardly backwards. "I give you my word that the information you give me will not be used to harm Yondu in any way. I seek no vengeance against him."

Kraglin stopped his squirming and narrowed his eyes at her, that wise look of discernment crowding out his fear. After another quiet moment his body relaxed under hers and he nodded, "What you got?"

"Has Yondu been acting strange ever since I left?" Yes movement from Kraglin. "Do you think it is directly related to me as a person and not just me as a profit?" Hesitation but then Yes from Kraglin. "Do you think Yondu would be a better captain and a happier man if I was around?" A confused look soon replaced by a hopeful one then Yes from Kraglin. Tommiah loosened her hold but didn't extract herself. "Thank you. But I must confess my own prideful hesitancy to come along in spite of your reassurances. When he had me to himself, he didn't want me around. Those pretty faces of credit made me stand out in a crowd and someone picked me from the bunch, one glance was all it took. And there's no guarantee that won't happen again, though I won't go so easily now. So maybe now it's much too late for me to take a second look at whatever it was that happened between us."

Kraglin scratched his head before he responded, "Is that a yes or no question?"

Tommiah opened her mouth to reply but then the voices of their comrades coming into the camp stopped her. Yondu's voice, directed over his shoulder to Quill, was saying, "Tell me what you've got in mind, 'cause we're running out of time. And this waiting 'round's killing me and," but as they drew into the camp and everyone saw Kraglin and Tommiah, he stopped talking. Kraglin stood up so fast then, at the look of burning anger in Yondu's eyes, that Tommiah fell on her butt. Drax's groans were enough evidence, as she scrambled around on the ground into a better position, that her momentary sprawl had advertised her goods to all present.

Kraglin was rambling all sorts of confusion, wildly gesturing between himself and Tommiah, while Quill doubled over clutching his stomach. Gamora lightly touched his shoulder in concern but when Quill lifted his head, red and weepy, it was obvious to everyone that he was laughing. "I feel like I just got a window seat on a plane ride of ridiculousness." He gasped out, trying to stand up straight but when Yondu lunged forward and decked Kraglin, he fell over again in more laughter.

Tommiah felt marginally bad that Kraglin was getting beat on for her interrogation tactics and moved to stop the fight but Drax stopped her. "A warrior must fight to show his virility to his potential mate." Tommiah raised an eyebrow and Drax pointed to Yondu, "He needs to fight for you or else he cannot have you."

"But," Tommiah frowned, "Kraglin wasn't trying to take me. This is all a misunderstanding."

"There are no misunderstandings when it comes to mating." Drax patted her shoulder before he walked over to the pile of supplies and calmly began to pack them away.

"I beg to differ," Tommiah again stepped forward to stop Yondu as he now took to chasing a fleeing Kraglin through the middle of the oasis. This time it was Quill who stopped her.

"He'll work it out of his system and Kraglin's fast." He rocked back on his heels for a philosophical pause. "Do you want to ride with Yondu or us?"

Tommiah looked away from the rustling foliage, "Where are we going?"

"Rocket reported not too long ago about finding another cache of these power packs. Apparently, what we found was supposedly the decoy to the real big deal. So we talked it over with Yondu and-"

"Talked it over?" Tommiah snorted. "That doesn't sound much like Yondu."

Gamora spoke over her shoulder, having joined Drax in packing up, "They agreed on a split of the cache in exchange for you."

"Meaning Yondu would get me instead of the cache?" Tommiah looked from Gamora to Quill. "Or vice versa?"

"No, we agreed on a split of the cache instead of me keeping you all to myself and going after the cache against him. It was rather uncharacteristically chivalrous of him to insist upon splitting the cache and working together for it, thereby guaranteeing your 'freedom' from serving me." Quill patted Tommiah's shoulder, "You must have driven him crazy like no one else, and he can't help himself." Quill kept his hand on her shoulder, "Can I have my jacket back now?"

Tommiah unzipped the jacket and unflinchingly took it off. Both Drax and Quill balked at her complete nudity: Drax for finding her ugly and Quill for the sheer surprise of it. Gamora smirked and gave her nod as she walked by towards the ship; Drax ostentatiously ignored her as he followed in her footsteps. It was as Tommiah handed Quill his jacket that Yondu emerged alone from the oasis foliage. At the sight of Tommiah, naked in the sun, standing so close to Quill, Yondu's eyes narrowed again. Quill grabbed his jacket, mumbled something about her staying with Yondu, then took off after Drax and Gamora.

Yondu advanced, "Am I gonna have to mark you with my brand to remind you and everyone else who it is you're with?"

Tommiah turned to face him head on, putting her hands on her hips, "Who says I haven't already marked you? And for someone who so happily rid himself of me not so long ago, who the hell are you to say I'm 'with' you or not?" Yondu's eyes narrowed at her words. She continued, "So you've come gunnin' for me, believing you get what you want, eh?" Tommiah held steady, not wavering under his scrutiny when he stopped just shy of her. "Aren't you hot to trot, thinking I need you to guarantee my freedom. You think I couldn't make it on my own? You know no one likes to go at it alone, but that doesn't mean that they can't do just fine alone. And I've been doing just fine. I didn't need you to swoop in and save me"

"You were dying when I found you and you shat all over me. I also didn't e'en know you were here." Yondu growled out at her through clenched teeth. "If I had I wouldn't have bothered."

"Don't make excuses, Yondu." Tommiah crossed her arms over her chest, inwardly smiling when she saw Yondu's nostrils flare at the sight her breasts pressing together. "Everything you say is lies so long as you don't acknowledge the truth to yourself." Tommiah changed tactics and softened her voice, tilting her head to the side. "You know what we had was true." Yondu drew back, as if her words had physically hit him. "But things go wrong, they always do. And you're a quick draw on the floor. Like some wanted man; a smooth operator. And you maneuvered yourself out of a situation that could've gotten too real for you."

Yondu mimicked her stance and crossed his arms over his chest, "I had an agreement. You weren't an expected part of the agreement."

"Yes," Tommiah laughed, "I'm a real entertainer, a mischief maker. A great dalliance to wheedle away time with. It's no surprise to me that you'd fall back on that agreement to cover your ass. The agreement served you well enough until you found a better one that outbid the original. While I can't fault you for that, in your line of work, I can give you hell for it since it got between us."

"There was no us." Yondu continued to glare at her.

Tommiah laughed, "Then why in the hell did you just beat the shit out of Kraglin? He didn't do anything. I was the one who made the advance. Trying to get him to spill the truth about what y'all had been up to." Tommiah gestured over her shoulder towards Quill's ship, which had begun to take off. "And why did you look like you were going to murder Quill just a few moments ago?"

"Lady," Yondu uncrossed his arms, "you're in trouble plenty. I just lost half a profit because of you. Now shut up and let's go before Quill makes off with the whole cache." Yondu turned and began his way back towards the oasis foliage; his ship and hopefully a still alive Kraglin being on the other side.

Tommiah rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles as she narrowed her eyes at Yondu's retreating back. She muttered to herself, "Why is it that I can speak of love in seven languages except the one that matters?"

"Let's go, lady, we haven't got-" Yondu's voice was cut off as the air left his lungs.

Tommiah only momentarily was dislodged from his back after her initial tackle when he fell into the ground and skidded a ways. She recovered quicker than Yondu, however, and laid herself upon his back, securing her arms on either side of his and her legs on either side as well. Under normal circumstances, Yondu would've been able to knock her off his back and be on his way without breaking a sweat. However, Tommiah had recovered enough in her rest to muster up some of her quarter-Celestial powers and now began to use them to increase her weight upon his back as well as the strength in her arms and legs as they continued to pin his own.

"What the hell?" Yondu's voice sprayed up a cloud of dust by his face. Tommiah didn't feel guilty in the slightest at making him figuratively and literally eat dirt for a few moments longer. "What did Quill do to you?"

"Quill didn't do a damn thing. This is au natural me." Tommiah turned her head and rested it atop his upper back and neck as she spoke. "Through a bizarre series of events I came to find out that I'm descended from a Celestial."

Yondu tried to squirm under her, "Fuck me! You're another Ego?"

"No, I'm not suddenly hell bent on remaking the universe in my image or shagging my way through the galaxy." Rocket had been the one to inform her of Quill's psycho father when she'd brought it to their attention about her powers and had had to deal with Quill's initial disgust towards her. "I'm only a quarter-Celestial so while I'm crazy, I'm not THAT crazy." Tommiah lifted her head. "If I let you up can we talk without you trying to walk away, or do I have to stay where I am?"

Yondu was quiet, apparently giving it serious thought, before he sighed—causing another dust cloud—and nodded, "You can let me up."

Tommiah immediately missed feeling his strong body beneath hers when she rolled off him, but she'd not force him to comply with her wishes—and she very much wished that he could get over his pride and let them be together already. She sat on the dusty ground while he pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, his gaze wary as he watched her, then turned and sat facing her. She kept her hands visible, placed on her knees, as she sat cross-legged. Sitting on the ground was not the most comfortable thing in the world but at least in their scuffle they'd ended up under the bit of shade the oasis offered. And there was no use feeling self-conscious. Yondu had seen and tasted everything she had on display at the moment, though in far different scenarios.

"Did you kill Kraglin?" Tommiah glanced over at the foliage then back to Yondu.

Yondu shrugged, "He's probably in the ship bandaging himself up now waiting for us." He eyed her another heartbeat before he leaned forward and asked, "Why'd you tell me about being quarter-Celestial?"

"I wanted you to understand that I don't need you." Yondu flinched and leaned back again. "I don't need anyone really. I semi-immortal and I'm still discovering how badass I really am."

"Then what the hell are we talking here for?" Yondu shifted on his haunches as if to get up. Tommiah reached out and, without using her powers, stayed him. She placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed lightly. He hesitated then relaxed again.

"As I said earlier, although I am doing just fine on my own, and can go at it alone, no one likes to be alone. I don't need you but," Tommiah looked him up and down and smiled, "I want you. And I'd like to think that the feeling is mutual. You don't need me, but you want me."

Yondu was quiet for far longer than Tommiah expected. She internally shifted around, fighting against a surge of disquiet under his calculating gaze. But then he shifted his position to be more open, sitting cross-legged like her but with his arms draped over his knees, and he tilted his head towards her.

"Come a little bit closer." Tommiah scooted closer, until their knees were touching. Yondu raised an eyebrow. "Not close enough." Tommiah didn't hesitate. She put her hands on his shoulders and used them to brace herself as she crawled into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and settling her rear in the "bowl" his crossed legs made. Yondu smiled, "That's better."

Tommiah smiled as she wrapped her hands around his neck, "I agree."

"Now," Yondu's hands, though dirt covered, felt a welcome warmth against her naked flesh when they came to rest on her waist and caressed up her back, "Let me tell ya, forget what happened before." He swallowed and looked pained, as if what he was about to say physically hurt him. Tommiah kept quiet, certain that he'd be able to overcome his own pride soon enough. "I was blind to let you go, but now since I've seen ya, and as you so eloquently put it you want me and I'd say," he shifted her in his lap so she could feel his semi-erect penis, "the feeling is quite mutual, why don't you spare me overly long dialogues about what you're feeling and what I'm feeling and shit like that. I want you back. I think that's simple enough."

Tommiah laughed, "Yeah, it is. And let me say that trying to live without your snark has been like one long sleepless night."

"That's just fine. I haven't been able to get much rest neither. Kraglin says I've been a man obsessed." Yondu shrugged. "Now how about we get the fuck off this planet and get ourselves some credits so you take a proper bath and not smell like shit?"

"Oh," Tommiah laughed, "you die hard romantic you."

Despite Yondu's protests, she kissed him: swiftly and playfully, before racing him back to the ship where Kraglin was indeed nursing quite a few cuts and bruises but who looked exceedingly glad to see Tommiah with Yondu. Of course, Kraglin knew that he'd get more cuts and bruises from the captain, directly because of Tommiah, but at least he'd be the captain again and he'd have that no-good snarling smile back on his face again.

~~~

When he came home late at night and he found her already in bed asleep he enjoyed wrapping his arms around her so he could feel her breathe. But tonight, he pulled a chair to her side of the bed and sat there watching her while she slept and a surge of possessiveness overwhelmed him at the sight. He felt like such a fool sometimes. He'd never been the type to crave softness and affection. Pussies and wimps wanted such things. Yet, whenever he had been apart from Tommiah for longer than a few days he found himself curling around a pillow where it should've been her body. He wanted her nearby, if even just in the same ship, otherwise he felt something was not quite right. He'd wake up nearly afraid of the silence in the room, he'd grown so used to waking up with her whispering naughty things in his ear about what she wanted him to do to her before they got out of bed. He knew instinctively that there would be no one else but her, not for the rest of his life. If something ever happened to her, he would not recover. He knew that she was "the love of his life" as Peter had put it some time ago (he'd punched him in the gut in response), she was his "lady", and though Quill had sung a ridiculous song in the process of explaining this to him Yondu had understood two things. 1. Quill sucked at singing, 2. Quill was right (damn him).

His emotions were swinging around like hell and that pissed him off even more. It kept him up at night and distracted him during the day too. He didn't talk to Kraglin or anyone else about it because it made him feel like all he could do these days was bitch and moan. He would go from feeling so good it was enough to make a grown man cry, to feeling like a dumbass and wanting to fall through the floor. She was always on his mind in some fashion, like the thought of her was on a mental wheel that just went round and round. Maybe because of this he felt restless and found himself making more and more risky ventures despite the glares from Tommiah and the protestations of Kraglin. It was as if he was trying to confirm his inner fears that a Raider ship was no place to start a family, that the life he lived was more like a circus than anything a sane woman deserved. Yet she stayed, faithful, patient, as if she were waiting for him to get his head out of his own ass and rediscover himself in the future that was quite literally developing inside her as he sat here.

But he couldn't shake the doubt. Why in the hell was Tommiah with a clown like him? She was a fuckin' quarter-Celestial and here she lay in his bed pregnant with his child. He'd never gotten a second glance from women of quality before. He was a fuck-boy, and he'd taken pleasure in that fact before Tommiah. Hell, even when they'd first started out together it'd only been a game like all the times before. So how in the hell did he ever win her love? She was like a fuckin' angel in comparison to himself. He knew she was the best thing to ever happen to him and yet the self-doubt had him scrambling around in desperation. He was vulnerable, afraid, and he didn't like that feeling; not one bit. He felt scared and he certainly wasn't the scaring type.

Yondu sighed and the sound was enough to have Tommiah blink her eyes until her gaze found his. She didn't smile. She was too fucking smart to not sense that something was wrong with him. Instead she remained as she lay, on her side facing him, her belly almost hanging off the bed. She kept silent, knowing that soon enough he'd talk. She was too fucking smart because he did exactly that, and he hadn't even had to get liquid courage to do so.

"When I look at you and I see what we've done together," he pointed at her belly, "all my instincts tell me to run, that this grand façade will soon burn to the ground and when I reach out from the inside to touch you, you'll be gone. And a part of me wants to chase you away before you leave me. And part of me wants to curl into a desperate ball of shitarded shame and wallow in my wounded pride at feelin' a need for you."

Tommiah wisely remained quiet though she did sit up enough to fluff up her pillow and reposition herself she could be more at eye-level with him. Yondu chewed on the inside of his cheek as he tried to put his racing thoughts into words because damnit but she deserved that from him.

"I know I'm a fuckup, I always have been, and I always will be. You knew for certain the man that I really am when you came back with me. But now with this," he waved at her stomach again, "comin' I can't help but see all the miles stretched out behind me of all the fuckups I've committed, and the broken lives that lie victims to the game of acquisition I've played. Days pass with this lodged inside me like a fuckin' ball and emptiness fills my heart and that just pisses me off because why the hell should I feel that way when I can hold you? When now that all is said and done, I can come back to the place where you are?"

Tommiah reached out to him then and he gladly gave her his hand, near desperate to feel her. She held his hand quietly for a moment, turning it over in her hand a time or two, before she spoke.

"Close your eyes," she waited until he did so before she lowered it to her protruding stomach, "Do you feel my heart beating even there?" It took a moment but once he focused his attention entirely on where she'd put his hand he did in fact feel her heart beat thrumming through her taunt skin. Then, below that, he felt movement of the baby. His eyes opened and widened, immediately seeking out her own gaze. "Do you understand now why you've been feeling all this?"

Yondu sighed and shook his head, "I keep reachin' for something that isn't there, like I'm always livin' for a dream. I take on the world, that's just my style, and it's so fuckin' confusin'. My heart, my fuckin' heart keeps asking questions I ain't got answers for. When I look in your eyes I feel like I can see forever, and I feel like you've been with me all the while. But then those stupid questions come back of, 'can we last forever or will we fall apart' and I take you for granted, the idea that you'll always be here. When I look ahead at my whole life without you, I see only loneliness, but at the same time I look at my whole life ahead and I'm afraid I'll be too much of a fuckup to deserve you."

Tommiah laughed and tugged at Yondu's hand at the same time that she scooted back on the bed until he was able to perch on the edge of it beside her prone body. She kept his hand on her belly but took her hands away to frame either side of his face with her own.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't dreaming up the fact that you felt the same for me as I did for you, or that it is still burning like an 'eternal flame' of sorts. We made this life together, Yondu, you and me. I chose you and you chose me. How can I convince you that what you see here," she waved to his blue hand on her white stomach, "is real? That you're past life as a fuckup or your tendency to continue to be one isn't enough to drive me away? To drive us away?" She kissed his forehead before leaning her own against it. "Yondu I know you're no knight in shining armor, but I love you. You've helped to shape me as I am now, and I don't just mean fat with your baby kicking around inside me." He smiled and his fingers momentarily tightened against her stomach's skin. "I mean that we've had to make decisions together, we've gone through shit together, and all our decisions have brought us here to this very moment. So really what's important is the here and now, not so much what's come before and what's to come after. Because in all honesty, what comes after is dependent upon what the hell's going on right now, so it makes no sense to worry about that until we got the 'now' taken care of."

Yondu pulled his head back enough to assess her look, her body, to see her in her entirety. She'd gotten rounder in the face since getting pregnant, but she was still gorgeous and fuckable (being pregnant certainly hadn't caused her sexual appetite to diminish, his either). It seemed that she'd also gotten hellofalot wiser too. She'd always been a smartass but now it seemed she was just smart. Damn. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, momentarily letting go of his hold on her belly long enough to stretch his arms over his head and roll his neck around, as he tended to do before saying something either really smart or really stupid. She interrupted him before he could do either.

"I love the way you move," she took hold of his hand and kissed the back of it, "And that sparkle in your eyes. There's a color deep inside them, like blue skies." She laced her fingers through his and her smile sobered. "No matter what your fears tell you Yondu, we'll find our way. I've got nowhere else to go but more so than that I've nowhere else I want to go. I may not always know what to do but I'm never giving up on you, or on us."

Yondu kissed her then, slow and deep. He shared a breath with her before he spoke, "I know you know we've had some good times and some bad times, and I can't buy back yesterday and baby you know my hands are dirty, but I promise you I'll be there for you tomorrow and the tomorrow after that."

Tommiah smiled, "I can't complete you, Yondu, just like you can't complete me. Every day we are faced with numerous doorways of decisions that will either lead us closer together or drive us further apart. I've seen this trouble inside you and I've wanted to touch it, to help it go away, but I've also known that I can't work so hard for our survival. We have to work together because it'll be shitstorm if it's just one-sided. But now I know we've got something because you've shown me that you give a damn and baby I love that about you." She kissed him this time, just as deeply, as if she were trying to imprint her words on his heart through her lips.

When they pulled apart Yondu shifted on the bed until he could kneel over her legs, his face level with her belly. He stroked his hands over it a few times, marveling at the fact that there was a life inside there, a complete being that was equal parts him and equal parts her.

"These five words I swear to you: I'll be here for you." He whispered over her belly. "I'll live for you and I'll die for you if, necessary." He placed both hands on either side of her belly and merely stared in silence as the baby shifted around a bit, as if in response to his promise. He looked back up to Tommiah, "I realize that I don't need to be the king of anything," he bent his head and kissed her stomach, "As long as I'm the hero of this little girl."

Tommiah laughed, "How are you so certain it IS a little girl?"

"Because having a girl with you would be fuckin' fierce. She'd have all the men on their knees with just a glance and all the women would tear their fuckin' hair out with jealousy." He kissed her stomach again before laying beside her and kissing her lips.

"Not the competitive type at all are you?" She whispered against his lips.

Yondu smiled, "You wouldn't want me any other way, baby."

"Too true." She rolled over on top of him and proceeded to show him that she was just as competitive as he and that, be it boy or girl, the universe was in for a lot of trouble when their offspring debuted.


End file.
